The Weight of Legacy
by Conn8d
Summary: Legacy is peculiar thing. A blade with two edges. A coin with two very different sides. It can be a burden and a boon. It can cultivate strength and sacrifice. It can bring joy and jealousy. Legacy has brought marriages together and torn others apart. Some rise to the inheritance while others falter. For members of the Avery family, the weight of legacy is real. Spoilers for s10.
1. Sly as a Fox

**A/N: I have no idea what this is. A character study on legacy? Sort of. Or rather an exploration into the role of legacy within a family context. It's going to focus on Jackson and April and their married life following s10, but as you can see from this opening chapter, it's going to feature other members of the family as well (including versions of 4 familiar kiddos for those of you who've read my familyverse AUs). Basically we'll look at the growing Avery family and their individual relationships with the Harper Avery Foundation through the years. I know it sounds weird and it's hard to explain, but I think it'll be fun. Give it a try and see if you like it. Let me know what you think and thank you very much for reading.  
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* * *

_Sly as a Fox_

Catherine's first Harper Avery Foundation board meeting wasn't, strictly speaking, board approved.

It wasn't like her father in law, or any of the other 10 members of the board, expected her to show up along side her new husband. It wasn't like they invited her. But then again, none of the board members knew Catherine well at all. Neither did Harper.

She waited for no invitations.

The gasp and the suspicious gazes that swept across the small group did not escape Catherine's notice when she and Julian arrived. The board was a study of white men dressed in dingy business suits, with the occasional bad comb over to add some variety. The Harper Avery Foundation for the Advancement of Cardiothoracic Surgery, Treatment, and Technology (who knew which of the fools came up with that mouthful of a name), was known for groundbreaking science, not for barrier breaking membership decisions.

It was clear in those first few moments that Catherine's presence, (whether because she was young or because she was black, and certainly because she was a woman) was unwelcome.

Julian squeezed her hand as Catherine made eye contact with each and every board member. Challenging every single one. So what, if they didn't want her to be there? She was an Avery now and a capable surgical fellow in her own right.

She had _every_ right to be here.

Granted, Catherine sometimes still thought of herself as a Fox. It was still kind of hard to process that she was now an _Avery_, even after all the papers had been signed, ceremonies and parties held, and family heirlooms passed on. She was still getting used to the fact that as an ambitious student the surgeon whose rising career she'd poured over, the man who's picture she'd seen on the cover of Time magazine, Dr. Harper Avery who'd successfully operated on a still beating heart, _that_ Dr. Harper Avery was now her father in law. In that first board meeting, she was still getting accustomed to the idea she was a member of one of the most prominent families on the east coast.

Not to say that Catherine felt she didn't belong. Quite the contrary, in fact. She _knew_ she deserved the best.

As she looked around the board room, her gaze lingered on Harper, who showed less surprise than the rest of the board. He sat at the head of the table, leaning back at his chair with a solemn expression. Watching her every move.

Initially, both of Julian's parents had been surprised when their son returned home from his first year of medical school at Columbia with long hair, plaid flared jeans, and a sassy afro rocking fiancee in tow. Sidney Poitier might have come to dinner ten years ago, but he (and the concept he represented) wasn't exactly a regular visitor in families like the Avery's. They hadn't been exactly unhappy for the young couple, and helped plan and payed for a lavish wedding. Yet, the shock still hadn't quite worn out.

The Avery family was high class. For them, this kind of marriage was definitely unusual.

Catherine didn't know her father in law well, but his wife Elizabeth had already initiated her into the family with keepsake Limoges and a big ring. Harper would likely be a tougher nut to crack, but it was no matter.

Catherine liked a challenge.

After sitting down, Julian had glared at his father, daring Harper or any of the rest to say a word.

"It's a family foundation, right Father?" he said coolly. "My wife is my family."

The differences between Julian and Harper were numerous. Father and son were like night and day. Where Harper was charismatic and outgoing, Julian was thoughtful and clammed up in big crowds. Where Harper was methodical and organized, Julian was impulsive and spontaneous. Where Harper was calculating and ambitious, Julian was full of fey and idealism.

The one thing Catherine had observed the men to have in common was their strong belief that it was possible for medicine to change the world. She shared the same burning passion.

And much as she admired her medical titan father in law, Harper was no Julian. In time, Catherine would learn this the hard way.

But when she'd strode confidently into that first board meeting, Catherine was still deeply in love with the kind and gentle man she'd met in the medical library. His piercing blue eyes, blonde hair and sweet smile were hard enough to resist. He was captivating for other reasons too. Julian was a fine man, but when you combined that with the genius and optimism he possessed in spades, and with he way he treated her like a queen, Catherine was head over heals. All the way to the alter.

At the time of that first board meeting, Catherine knew nothing of his temper. His selfishness. His irresponsibility.

Julian Avery had not yet broken her heart.

Harper took in his son's words carefully but without comment. Accepting her presence by default, Catherine surmised. He wasn't telling her to leave, but he wasn't asking her to stay, either.

Fair enough.

The other board members were less non committal. One particularly bold bald man, who Catherine knew from research was named Cartwright, had rolled his eyes.

"Julian, this is a closed board meeting. We will be discussing long term strategic planning for the foundation. I'm sure your wife has other things to worry about..."

"On the contrary," Catherine replied with a small smirk. "In fact, I can't think of another place I'd rather be."

It was clear that with the success and fame of Harper Avery, his newly founded non profit had many interested donors and with them, the potential to be unparalleled in both power and scope. Bigger than Pew. Bigger than Nobel.

The Harper Avery Foundation had the potential to become the leading medical research foundation in the country, if not the world.

_That_ was her future and Catherine had known it.

"It's a medical foundation, Ma'am," a different board member took a different approach, trying to imply that the concepts of the organization were beyond her. He obviously had not done his research on her quite so well as she'd done on him.

"I am a certified and practicing physician."

Cartwright piped up again, (she was just about at her limit with this fool) scoffing, "A woman urologist."

Beside her, Catherine felt her husband tense up. He leaned forward clearly ready to lay into the older man, but Catherine calmly rested her hand on Julian's arm. This was the 20th century after all. She didn't need him to stand up for her. She was more than capable of doing that by herself.

"Why of course, honey," Catherine replied, grinning politely and raising one eyebrow. "I find that many men are _very_ comfortable allowing a woman handle that part of their anatomy. "

Harper coughed uncomfortably at the comment while most of the other board members looked scandalized. But Catherine didn't care. That's what had gotten their attention. She'd learned very quickly that these were the kind of people you couldn't just expect to simply listen to what you had to say.

Catherine had to _make _them pay attention to her.

Her words seemed to settle the score and the meeting started in earnest. That first one wasn't terribly productive, but Catherine made a point of attending each and every scheduled meeting of the board in the ensuing years. Eventually she attended far more meetings than her husband.

And Harper knew it.

The Harper Avery Foundation started with a focus on the heart. Cardiothoracic surgery and the promotion of heart health. Which made sense, because the legendary Harper Avery had redefined what it meant to be a cardiothoracic surgeon. He'd changed what it meant to perform heart surgery.

But he was not the only surgeon of that ilk. There were ground breaking surgeons in many specialties. And Harper was not the only one of them who'd managed to secure donors and to create a foundation.

There were Neurological Foundations, Gynecological Foundations, Pediatric Foundations, and most other things one could imagine. Probably _more_ things than one could imagine. And that of course, meant more competition for donors, projects, and research.

However, Catherine could see that while Harper had peers of similar skill and with similar ambitions, he was _Harper Avery_. He was more famous. He'd been on television. He'd been magazine covers. He'd met presidents.

Harper was bigger, and known to a wider audience, than any of the best surgeons in other fields, and Catherine thought that his foundation had the potential to be bigger as well. Because of his notoriety, Catherine thought they had the potential to secure not only typical donors who _always_ supported medical causes, but completely unknown ones as well. Harper's fame could help them recruit new donors, which would eventually eliminate their need to compete for existing ones.

And then, once they could secure and maintain a dedicated donor base, all the foundation need do was soundly invest their income, so that it could survive and thrive in leaner times. Spend wisely. They could position themselves as an essential part of the medical field by establishing grant programs, research initiatives, and awards. They could make themselves so integral in fact, that it would seem almost impossible to imagine a medical world _without_ a Harper Avery Foundation. If the charity took the right steps, of course.

But Catherine had a plan.

That fact didn't escape her father in law's notice either. Once, Harper had pulled her aside after a boisterous board meeting. Catherine had been particularly vocal with the other board members, continually pushing them to expand the scope of the projects the Harper Avery Foundation supported. She'd been not only vocal, but had tended toward using some colorful language.

Pregnancy hormones, it turned out, made Catherine rather punchy.

Harper grabbed her arm gently as the other board members exited the room, "Catherine-"

She held up her hand, "Harper, I am fine, I don't need you help me stand up."

Catherine glanced down at the large bulging belly of her 8th month with child and swallowed hard. It wouldn't be easy, but damned if she wasn't capable of doing it herself. She just needed a moment.

Smirking, her father in law carefully hoisted her to her feet, "Perhaps you don't need my help, but I might need a pretext to talk to you..."

The piqued her curiosity, "Oh?"

"Where's Julian this month?"

"Uh, well, you know he's got a few new projects he's working on..." Catherine explained patting her belly absentmindedly.

Granted, she wasn't exactly pleased about her husband's decision to skip the day's board meeting in favor of research that didn't even fit the scope of his cardio fellowship. They'd had words about it the previous night as a matter of fact.

Julian felt like he was being pulled in too many directions. Catherine felt like he lacked the ability to focus and organize. She was pulled in many directions as well. But Catherine knew how to handle it, and she thought it was high time Julian learned. It wasn't like any of this was going to become any easier once the baby came.

The discussion remained unresolved.

"He _should_ be concentrating more on his fellowship," Harper mumbled irritably. Catherine couldn't say she disagreed.

"Do you know if he has been performing well, I heard there was an open heart-"

Catherine headed toward the door irritably, "Did you want to talk to me in order to spy on your son, or was there something else?"

She hated beating around the bush.

Harper's face became more serious, "Something else, actually. About this foundation...and what it could be. What I _want_ it to be. I wanted to tell you that I appreciate your motions to expand our scope."

Catherine raised an eyebrow. She had always hoped the man understood why she made so many suggestions. She was happy to find that Harper definitely did.

He paused and then continued carefully, "That's the future. That is the direction I want us to take. You understand my vision. Better than all of them. Better than Julian."

Heartened by his admission, Catherine didn't break eye contact, "Well, then I suppose it's a very good thing I married him."

Harper chuckled, "I suppose."

Little did they know how true that would turn out to be.

* * *

Jackson arrived and within three years, Julian had departed.

Off to God knows where with little more than a note, a letter from his lawyer, and a half-assed apology. Catherine was livid. Catherine was devastated. Catherine was scared. If she didn't love him so much, she would have felt like killing the man. Actually, love or not, she kind of did feel like killing him. Or, at the very least, she wanted to maim his sorry butt.

Julian had left her. _Julian _had left _her._

He'd left her alone with a baby. He'd left his own son. Catherine knew she could never forgive him for that. Leaving her was one thing, but leaving behind their son was entirely unforgivable. In so doing, Julian had burned his bridge with her.

And for what? From Catherine's perspective it just seemed like he was throwing his life away.

_Their_ life.

But she also scared because so much of her life was now wrapped up in the world of Avery. She finally thought of herself as an Avery. She was becoming established and respected in her field and at the Brigham as an Avery. Her ideas were finally beginning to get traction in the Harper Avery Foundation.

Her beautiful, perfect, ray of sunshine baby boy was an Avery.

The world of Avery was Catherine's world. Would she lose all of that without Julian? Before getting married she'd signed papers to that effect. At least financially. She was ambitious, and the thought of losing everything she'd worked so hard for these past few years was terrifying.

Catherine despised being afraid.

"Da?" Jackie inquired happily when a knock came at the apartment door.

"I don't know, baby. Let's go see who it is."

Somewhat irrationally feeling her own hope rise, Catherine had taken her toddler's hand and walked with him to see who was knocking. She'd feigned ignorance, and pretended that everything was alright. She deflected the boy's questions about Julian and asked that his nanny do the same thing. Catherine wanted to spare Jackson the rejection and fear she felt.

She'd known that it couldn't possibly be her husband knocking at the door. Why would Julian Avery need to knock on the door of his own home?

That night Catherine's attempts at staying strong faltered somewhat. Because opening the door revealed her in laws, and the sight of Harper and Elizabeth looking at her with such pity and shame was enough to undo Catherine momentarily.

Tears sprung to her eyes, and Catherine had felt Elizabeth's arms envelope her immediately. Harper cleared his throat stiffly and patted the top of Jackson's head. The toddler seemed a bit disappointed, but when his grandmother turned to hug him, a wide grin spread across his gorgeous little face.

Jackie was a real looker. Like father like son.

And somehow, seeing her in laws made Catherine feel slightly less afraid. They were just as pissed off at their son as she was.

"It's disgraceful," Harper had grumbled, shaking his head vigorously, and shoving his hands into his pockets. "The things people will say when they hear about this. Avery's just don't simply walk out on their responsibilities! Whatever problems might exist in the marriage. Whatever pressures he might have felt he was facing. I can't believe Julian would be this cowardly..."

"Well, I have been pushing him to get more involved with the foundation, Harper. And asking him to spend more time bonding with Jackson. And pushing him to publish more. Maybe I was too hard on Julian."

Even years later, Catherine didn't quite know why she'd felt compelled to stand up for the man she'd simultaneously wanted to throttle. She supposed it was because of love. Maybe a part of her would always love Julian Avery.

But Harper had shut her down rather quickly, holding up one hand and firmly shaking his head, "No. Those are not things that Julian should run away from. Those are not things that are too hard. They cannot be skirted away from. Those are things that he is, or rather things should be. He is an Avery. He is a father. He is a physician. I expected greatness and he failed. It's cowardly. He's the one that left, Catherine. Not you."

The heat and force with which her father in law uttered these words had surprised Catherine too, even though she was also furious at Julian. It was hard to imagine how it must feel as a parent to be _that_ mad at your own child. She couldn't imagine speaking that way about her dear Jackie.

Catherine couldn't imagine it at the time, at least.

But watching the other man speak, hearing the conviction with which he laid out the responsibilities of being an Avery, Catherine had found herself feeling almost sympathetic towards her runaway husband, if only for a split second. Perhaps the responsibilities themselves were not too much to bear. But the way they were implemented by the severe and detached man in front of her couldn't have been easy to grow up with. And, unfortunately, Julian wasn't exactly the strongest person...

Even though Catherine believed Harper to be right in expecting greatness from his son, it was clear that his methods had not succeeded in getting the man the results he wanted with Julian. She vowed then and there: she would not make the same mistakes with Jackie.

Elizabeth spoke sadly as she looked at her grandchild, "I didn't raise my son to abandon his family."

Catherine was determined to make sure that things would be different for Jackson. She'd make sure he would grow up to be a stronger man than his father. In time Catherine would learn that little boy's didn't always grow to be the men you raised them to be. And that could cut both ways. They could grow to be better and worse.

"We'll manage," Catherine had sighed, lifting Jackson to her hip.

Kissing the top of her grandson's head, Elizabeth took hold of her daughter in law's free hand, "Yes. _We'll_ make sure that you do. Jackie is still our grandson, and you will always be his mother. As far as I am concerned, that means you are _always_ a part of my family, not matter what happens with Julian."

Somehow Catherine and Jackson had managed to be okay. The split had been a bit of a scandal among the upper crust of the medical community, but that soon passed and was replaced by another.

Harper had nominated her for a full position on the board of the foundation. He'd made sure she was offered an attending position at the Brigham as soon as she'd completed her fellowship. Elizabeth treated Catherine as though nothing had changed, even after the divorce was all signed and finalized. Julian agreed to pay both spousal and child support, which combined with Catherine's position actually made the transition go smoothly. She worked in the same hospital, was part of the same board, and lived in the same apartment with Jackson in downtown Boston.

Almost like nothing had changed.

Which, Catherine eventually realized, was a sad commentary on the state of her and Julian's life together really. Because you really aught to notice a huge difference in your life (aside from resentment) when your husband abandons you and your son.

But with her former in laws support, Catherine never felt like an outsider. Or an ex-anything. Julian was the ex. He was the one on the outs with the family. Expelled. Rejected. Failing. At least in Harper's eyes. And luckily for Catherine, she was the one he saw fulfilling his ambitions. She was still an Avery.

Elizabeth held true to her word. Divorce and all, Catherine was _always _a part of the family.

Damn.

Even years later, Catherine still missed that woman. Elizabeth had been gone over a decade and the absence was just as palpable. Catherine shook her head and looked down at the neatly stacked and signed copies of her son and new daughter in law's post nuptial agreement which had just arrived on her desk from the family lawyer.

Elizabeth Avery made being a mother in law seem far more effortless than she was finding it to be in her own life. It really wasn't easy at all. Especially when the position of mother in law was also a guardian of sorts of the Avery legacy and everything that entailed. But it wasn't as though she disliked her son's new wife.

In fact, April Kepner was a woman Catherine had almost instinctively started to care about.

From the moment they'd met, during her son's intern year at Mercy West, it was clear that April was smart and driven, but there was a sweetness and sensitivity to her that almost made one wonder whether or not she was actually cut out to be a surgeon. At the time, Catherine had been happy to step in and mentor her son's friend. She'd started to love the girl in a way when she and Jackson were the lone survivors of their intern group after a gunman shot up Seattle Grace Mercy West.

They'd stayed in touch, on the Facebook for several years until April pulled away, much to Catherine's disappointment. She gave April advice and the younger woman occasionally could supply Catherine with information about Jackson that her son neglected to share. To a point. There were some topics April didn't budge on, some secrets of Jackson's that she would not share, even when Catherine pushed her. And she had to respect that really.

Girl was uptight, but also incredibly trustworthy. It wasn't easily apparent when you looked at her, but April Kepner could hold her own.

The young woman was also full of surprises, as it turned out. As was Catherine's son. Just when she thought she knew Jackson and April well, and understood the nature of their close friendship, the two of them went and eloped to Lake Tahoe to get married. _Married._ The love sick fools had gotten married.

Even with all those years of knowing April Kepner as well as her own son, Catherine was stunned.

_Stunned._

Not many things in this world could actually stun Catherine Avery anymore. Last time she'd checked, Jackson was dating some naive intern and April was planning a wedding to another man.

A man she'd _left at the alter_ for Catherine's son.

Clearly, there was a lot more to April and Jackson's relationship than she'd known about before. He'd said it himself. However fast the marriage was (never mind the nearly non-existent engagement), the relationship between the the two was not new.

Not that Catherine knew anything about it.

And even though she felt sure they'd share the whole story with her in time, she wasn't too proud to admit (to herself at least and maybe Richard) that it hurt that Jackson and April hadn't decided tell her anything about their relationship at all. It hurt doubly that Catherine had had no role (or even knowledge about) their rushed wedding until days after it had happened.

She'd _thought_ they were all closer than that. She liked to think she was closer to her son than that.

But apparently family and legacy failed to enter Jackson's mind when he proposed to April Kepner on the side of a highway. Or at any point after that, as far as Catherine had been able to tell. She was the one left to spin this publicly on behalf of the Harper Avery Foundation. Not him. Catherine was the one who had to explain the importance and scope of the Harper Avery Foundation to his new and seemingly clueless wife.

Not Jackson.

At least at their last meeting, April had seemed less _tense. _And she'd agreed to sign the post nup. And she'd apologized to Catherine. April had even gotten _Jackson_ to apologize. A rarity.

That helped Catherine to better accept the marriage.

She had to give them credit for the boldness of the whole thing. It wasn't easy to stand up for your love. Catherine was a little disappointed in them both, but that would pass. She'd been young and in love once too. And she could see the way Jackson looked at April. She'd never seen her son happier.

And while life wasn't as simple as finding true love and living happily ever after, it was nice to be in that bubble sometimes. This wasn't going to be easy for them. Love was something, but it didn't mean that being married wasn't hard. When Catherine had visited Seattle, it was clear that the couple wasn't ready to face that, and she wasn't really unsympathetic. A part of her had been eager for her son to settle down for years. She was itching for grandbabies. Now that possibility was closer to being a reality.

Having April in the family on an emotional level was probably a very good thing. For so many years it had been just Catherine, Jackson, and Harper.

However, that didn't mean Catherine was entirely certain about _how_ April would fit into the Harper Avery Foundation. It wasn't an easy world to navigate. Especially for someone like April. Being an Avery carried a lot of responsibility. Duty to maintain the reputation. Dedication to the family.

But that was the price one had to pay for greatness. The price of the legacy.

Catherine had been honest when she'd raised concerns about her new daughter in law's strong beliefs. Another surprise about April that Catherine had no information about. The girl was a born again, who knows what? Pro-life? Jesus freak? And who knew what other beliefs April had? Catherine had no idea.

And how was it that after years of acquaintance, April never breathed a word to Catherine about believing any of these things?

April's beliefs were the biggest unknown factors to this whole equation for Catherine. April herself might be trustworthy, but Catherine didn't feel certain the same could be said of some of the woman's beliefs.

Beliefs that could well shape the future of the Harper Avery Foundation.

One thing Catherine had come to understand about legacy when her husband left? You could never be too careful. One ill equipped person like Julian could jeopardize years of work, careful cultivation, and meticulous family branding. One weak or wild person could be extremely dangerous to the entire Avery reputation. Catherine didn't know how April would handle it all yet. It certainly wasn't going to be easy, especially when Jackson's own interest in the foundation continued to be low.

Then again, Catherine hadn't known her place in the family when she'd first married Julian. All she knew right now was that she wanted her years of toil and triumph to mean something. To have a lasting impact on the Harper Avery Foundation.

Catherine wanted to preserve the family legacy.

Yes, most of that legacy existed because of Harper Avery's accomplishments and planning. But the reason it survived and remained undiscouraged by years of work was because of his wife, Elizabeth. And later because of Catherine herself. And someday it would grow because of the accomplishments of her own son.

And his new wife.

In time, Catherine learned too well that the Avery legacy was not always dependent on the Avery men, per say.

Rather, the strength of that legacy depended greatly on the women that they married.


	2. All Brawn and No Brain

**A/N: Hello again everybody! Thank you so so much for your response to the first chapter of this story. I really appreciate it, since I know it's a weird concept. As of publication, most of this actually seems to still fit in with canon season 10, though starting at the end of this chapter things are probably going to branch off. Usual disclaimers: I am not a doctor nor am I a scientist. Anything in this story is based off of what I found on googleBonus points to any readers who can identify the reference made to an amazing fic in this chapter. Thank you all so much for reading and please let me know what you think! April's first perspective chapter is coming soon. Enjoy!**

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_All Brawn and No Brain_

Jackson Avery fell asleep during his first Harper Avery Foundation Board meeting.

Unintentionally, of course.

But then again, he'd only been 15 years old and it was kind of boring and he'd spent most of the previous night cramming for a chemistry final that he had to take as soon as he got back to his boarding school from Boston. A test he could have bene taking right at that very moment, if not for the fact that his family (mostly his mother) had insisted that Jackson start sitting in on stupid board meetings of his Grandpa's organization. As a result, Jackson had had to get special permission to reschedule a private final from the headmaster.

On top of all of that, Jackson had to go directly from his test to basketball tryouts. So, not only was Jackson losing study time by going to this stupid meeting, but he was missing warm up time too.

And yet, his Mom expected him to excel in his studies and his sports activities. How was he supposed to do that if he had to come to boring ass meetings?

Why did Jackson have to start sitting in _now_ when he was still in high school? If he was going to get stuck inheriting the role eventually (and he'd known for most of his life that he had no choice about _that_), why couldn't Catherine have allowed him to have just a few more years of freedom?

It's not like his mom and grandpa really thought he could make much of a difference anyway.

To them, Jackson was _just_ a boy. Interested in sports, and girls, and Nike shoes. (That's not to say that he wasn't interested in those things as a teenager, but he'd always resented the way much of his family saw him.)

They thought he couldn't hack it in the field of medicine like they did. (How wrong that assumption would turn out to be) Their lack of faith in him was probably why they insisted Jackson come to the dumb meetings in the first place. Because they thought it would be hard for him and wanted to get him learning early. Because they thought that working at the Harper Avery Foundation was as close to a surgical OR as Jackson could ever get.

And why? Was it all because he'd had a hard time in biology for a few years in middle school? He'd managed to get a passing grade in the end. Was it because he'd accidentally slept through football tryouts? Jackson didn't know. He didn't even like football all that much anyway.

In time, Jackson suspected that maybe they'd been worried he would end up like his father. Julian hadn't been able to hack it as a doctor. Or as anything else, as far as Jackson had heard. Julian didn't make an effort to keep in touch.

And what did Julian's failure have to do with him? Jackson barely remembered his father.

He didn't think they were at all alike. To be honest, Jackson preferred not to think of Julian at all. In fact he made a point _not_ to. No matter what anyone else thought about him, even at age 15, Jackson knew he was stronger than his father.

It just seemed like someone _always_ had something to say about him. No matter what Jackson did. No matter how hard he tried or didn't try. If he succeeded people acted like he hadn't really earned it because of his famous family, and if he failed people said it was because he was a lazy rich pretty boy. It really almost wasn't worth making an effort in the first place. Jackson's actions were always the actions of an _Avery_ before anything else.

He could never win. It wasn't fair.

And it always felt like his family was trying to be simultaneously hard and easy on him. Not pressuring him in one sense and pressuring him in another. His grandfather didn't seem to expect him to amount too much, while his mother seemed to expect him to become president of the United States.

It seemed everyone and anyone had an opinion of what Jackson was like. What the grandson of Harper Avery _should_ be like. What the son of Catherine Avery _should_ become.

But no one ever asked him. That got on Jackson's nerves. No on ever asked him what he wanted. And no one ever seemed willing to get close enough to him to find out.

Another thing people assumed about Avery's? That they were all as distant, aloof, and stuck up as his grandfather.

At least his ailing grandmother always liked Jackson just the way he was. Not that she saw him much when he was in high school. Elizabeth was sick with cancer and Jackson was all the way in Connecticut most of the time for school.

He'd just nodded off, thinking about the indignity and pointlessness of others expectations of him, and letting his head hang forward over the files in front of him. Jackson's mother Catherine, only rolled her eyes fondly as she nudged the teenager awake with a snort. His grandfather, however, did not overlook Jackson's drowsiness so easily.

"Are you with us, Jackie?" he'd asked incredulously from the other side of the table.

Embarrassed, Jackson had sat up straight and nodded, "Yeah, I am."

"Hmmm..."

Harper pursed his lips and swiveled his chair and regarded the rest of the room seriously, "As we've all just learned, the Roslin institute has cloned a sheep! It'll be news out to the broader public in a number of weeks, and given the stem cell technique used, and the fact that they were able to create a successful clone of a higher order complex mammal, I think we as a Foundation need to start considering the longer term implications of such procedures on the medical field."

Jackson's eyes widened and he scrambled to look through the files in front of him. Cloning? Whoa! He must have missed that in the briefs. Clearly he should have read them more thoroughly. _This_ was cool stuff. The kind of stuff his classmates weren't privy to. The kind of stuff you read about in books or saw in movies.

Only, according to Jackson's grandfather, it was real.

"Cloned?" he said in awe. "_Cloned_ cloned? But how did they do it? Why did they do it? There's a _real_ clone?"

Harper gave his grandson a withering look. Clearly the old man was not interested in being interrupted. Or in explaining the background of all of this to someone he'd known had been half asleep for most of the meeting. Jackson gulped and ducked his head. Sometimes as a teenager he'd found his grandfather to be incredibly intimidating.

Scratch that.

_Most_ of the time Jackson found Harper Avery to be incredibly intimidating.

Catherine nudged her son gently, never dropping her cool expression for the rest of the board, and whispered, "Page 36, Jackson, honey."

Grateful to be rescued, the teenager had quickly flipped through the mass of papers in front of him. There is was. A picture of a fluffy little white lamb named Dolly. A clone of her mother, apparently. A cute and adorable little animal.

An adorable animal's who's DNA was the stuff of science fiction.

"Cool," Jackson breathed, with a faint smile.

For the first time, he'd thought that maybe these meetings weren't going to be so lame after all.

(Unfortunately, even as a grown man, this first meeting was pretty much the high point of Jackson's experience. The Harper Avery Foundation was powerful and well connected and cutting edge, but even _they_ didn't get to work with clones everyday.)

Jackson stared, transfixed by Dolly's image as his grandfather continued to drone on.

"It doesn't take much stretching of the imagination to understand the ramifications of this successful cloning on the medical field. If the clone continues to be healthy, and does not suffer any adverse effects from being a clone, then that opens up a whole host of opportunities for medical and surgical application."

An affirmative murmur filled the room and out of the corner of his eye, Jackson had caught sight of his mother nodding vigorously. Everyone in the boardroom was getting really excited.

One of the other board members shook his head in disbelief, "If physicians can access stem cells and successfully copy them?"

"We could someday be able to give people copies of their _own _genetic organs in lieu of waiting for transplant matches!" Catherine replied enthusiastically.

"We could rejuvenate _any_ dying or unhealthy cells with perfect copies of new ones!" A female board member added.

A glint of something youthful appeared in Harper's eye. He always seemed less severe when he was contemplating the frontiers of medicine.

"This breakthrough likely opens possibilities for us to develop procedures we can't ever even _dream_ of! If the Harper Avery Foundation invests in the Roslin Institute and their work with this clone, we can obtain intellectual property rights to the fruits of that research, and use it for future medical endeavors."

Jackson's eyes widened. His mind started to run wild with the possibilities. What if doctors could someday clone humans? Like if you got old and rickety and then they could just transfer your brain into a new and young body?

That was one of the first times Jackson could remember being truly and fundamentally awed by the possibilities of science.

"Some medical organizations are going to shy away from this kind of development, Harper," his mother added with a sigh. "I mean, we invest in this and the religious right will, no doubt accuse us of trying to play God. You remember what happened with the reproductive rights grant initiative a few years back...we lost some donors."

Harper huffed, and rolled his eyes, "Ah, yes. They'll fight tooth and nail to ensure that people are born, but don't give a rat's behind about what happens to you once you get here. Yes, we lost donors. Investing in Roslin will probably lose us some donors...but the things we could develop as a result of adding them to our portfolio? That's worth it. Any donor or member who wouldn't support that? Well, they don't support our mission."

It seemed that Harper was gearing up to another one of his speeches, extolling the virtues of medical and surgical progress. Jackson had learned the signs long ago, on the holidays and at family gatherings of his childhood. "Jackie," his grandfather would say over and over again. "There is no nobler calling than that which pushes back against the mysteries of the universe with the express and singular purpose of helping others."

Jackson knew the words by heart.

At that particular meeting Jackson had tuned out, and let his cheek rest on his fist as his gaze drifted back down to the files in front of him. His gaze had been inexplicably drawn to the photo of Dolly. His mood became pensive.

"We believe in research," Harper continued passionately. "We believe in science. We believe in helping people. Donors who do not share those values are frankly not worth our time."

He didn't know much about sheep, but something about Dolly spoke to Jackson. Which, even at the time, he'd realized was a little weird.

"I agree with you," Catherine interjected her father in law calmly. "But we also must consider the publicity impact as well. We're still getting some backlash about the women's health clinics in certain parts of the country...it might be better to go in as a silent backer for Roslin until some of of that dies down. We still get access to the intellectual property but-"

"While normally I would bend to your wisdom, Catherine," Harper interrupted, pointing his finger decisively on the table in front of him. "I don't want to be silent and smoke and mirrors with this investment. I want the record to show where the Foundation stood on this issue, and that we put our money were our mouth is. This sheep and the technology used to create her, and the technology she will help to spawn is something I want the public and posterity to know we care about! My legacy, this foundation's legacy, is always going to focus on innovation."

Looking at the picture of the small white lamb, Jackson considered that Dolly had no idea what she was. She was only farm animal after all. He didn't know much about livestock, but he was pretty certain that they had no concept of cloning. He wondered if she knew she wasn't a normal sheep. Maybe it was better not to know.

Dolly was special. The way she came into being had been scientifically impossible a matter of years previous. Dolly was going to be watched and monitored and studied her whole life. Whether she liked it or not. Everyone had plans for her. Human beings across the world had a million ideas for what her legacy would be.

She had no choice. She'd probably just keep on living her sheep life, regardless. It's not like Dolly could change her fate.

"Jackie? Are you paying attention? You will have to deal with these matters someday, you know? You might at least pay attention to how we resolve issues like this. This foundation will be yours to guide someday my boy..."

Strangely, Jackson had realized that he had quite a lot in common with certain sheep in Scotland. And he supposed they only way to cope would be to think more simply. Keep your eyes straight ahead. Take care of yourself. Deal with what is in front of you, screw what happened behind you and don't worry about what is ahead.

Jackson's head snapped up, flushing with embarrassment once more, "Uh, yes Grandpa. I'm listening...I am..."

* * *

The more things change, the more they stayed the same.

Even over 15 years later, his grandfather still punctuated any silence in a board meeting with the glaringly condescending, "Are you with us, Jackie?", recalling Jackson's youthful behavior. As though he hadn't grown or changed or accomplished anything as a man in the intervening years. As though he hadn't become a certified ENT and plastics fellow. As though he hadn't taken on the role of being Harper Avery representative on the board at Grey Sloan. None of that seemed to matter much to his grandfather.

To Harper, he was still sleepy, mediocre Jackie.

And it wasn't like Jackson's coworkers really respected him either. Not even his fellow board members. Especially his fellow board members. If Meredith wasn't giving him the silent treatment over Yang not winning the Harper Avery Award, Bailey was staring him down for trying to alter the level of funding for her research.

And Webber was chewing him out and cutting him out at every turn. Acting as though the partnership between the hospital and the foundation was a doomed marriage. Never mind the fact that there would be no Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital at _all_, if it wasn't for the Harper Avery Foundation.

They didn't get it. Jackson had nothing to do with this years award selection. He wasn't trying to cancel all their projects. He was trying to _save_ them. You'd think his fellow board members would be grateful.

But no.

They blamed him for it and badgered him for it, and it wasn't even as though Jackson had asked for the position on the board in the first place. He never wanted to be chair of the board. As much as Jackson thought he'd learned to handle the responsibility of the position, that was all his mother's idea.

Jackson had to admit that while he'd long chaffed at on the leash of his name and family, lately it had had it's perks. He really did enjoy being on the Grey Sloan board, representing the Harper Avery Foundation. Though he'd never have picked the position for himself, but Jackson thought he was decent at it. And not every doctor could save a kid's life by ordering a private plane.

For all he'd tried to downplay his Avery background at the hospital, in the end, it was _his_ background that had saved the place. Catherine, (and subsequently the Harper Avery's Foundation) wouldn't have been half as interested in saving the hospital and it's surgeons in the first place (from a mess that was basically self created, no less), if not for the fact that Jackson had a history and a connection to the place. Without him, Grey Sloan Memorial wouldn't even exist. But no one seemed to notice that.

The Harper Avery Foundation, for their part, was not unaware of how unhappy the board members of Grey Sloan seemed to be. His mother had called him just that evening as a matter of fact. Bugging him to get things in order on his end. It was bad publicity to have a staff at a member hospital being so outspoken in their opposition to the Harper Avery Foundation. Grey Sloan was dangerously close to becoming a liability, and Harper Avery Foundation was never loathe to let go of liabilities.

A lot of the time as an adult Jackson still felt like he couldn't win.

Except for the times he did.

Jackson smiled as he looked to his right at the woman who was snuggled against him in the chapel pew. April. _His_ wife.

Big win.

The concept was still new and hard to believe. He was so lucky. Jackson had literally almost let April slip away. He'd been stuck in a well of pride and denial, and he'd very nearly allowed April to marry someone else. She'd gotten down the aisle before he'd grown the balls to ask for what he wanted. Before he told her that he loved her. Which, Jackson admitted, was terribly terribly timed.

But hey, April had run out of the barn with _him_. She'd gone to Lake Tahoe to get married to _him_. She was having a baby with _him_.

A baby. (He _definitely_ wasn't used to saying that)

For so long Jackson had been used to being set apart from everyone else. To having his own back. To protecting himself, and the few people he cared about. Today, April had reminded him that he wasn't a lone ranger anymore. Webber had laid into him, _again_ in the gallery outside the conjoined twin surgery, in front of both attendings and residents alike, but April had shut the old man down. She had Jackson's back (even in the midst of a bit of a tense transition in their own married life). It was a great reminder for Jackson. Old habits die hard, he supposed, but he now could (and needed to learn how to) lean on April.

Because she'd be there for Jackson when he needed.

Beside him, April nestled closer against his shoulder and let out a small but content sigh, making Jackson's smile broaden. It was the happiest he'd seen her in a while. It was the happiest he'd felt in a while. What a crazy month.

Beyond his ongoing work woes, the past several days had brought Jackson and April to the first real fight of their marriage. _  
_

It all started with the deaf kid, and spiraled out of control from there. One minute they were talking about cochlear implants, the next about their own hypothetical deaf child, and the next the fact that April thought he didn't respect her religious beliefs. Jackson loved April, but sometimes he didn't always understand her intuitive leaps. At the time, it had totally thrown him for a loop.

Why did it have to be so difficult? Why couldn't they just enjoy being newly married? They finally were together after _so_ long. Why couldn't she just let things be until they actually had to worry about what religion they raised their children in?

Of course, it turned out she was pregnant and they did have to worry about it. And so some of April's urgency and anxiety made sense. _Some_ of it.

Jackson had to admit to himself that he didn't really understand religion. The Avery's weren't exactly religious, and he'd always been taught to put faith in the mind, man, and medicine. Often it seemed that religion could be an obstacle for things the Avery foundation wanted to do. And it wasn't as though faith or any concept close to it had ever actually gotten Jackson anywhere.

Jackson was certain that God and religion were just societal constructs.

In his life, there was little room for believe in magic of faith in the unknown. It didn't do any good. Evidence and past experiences ruled paramount. Wishing for his father to come home never worked. Wishing his grandfather could find a cure for his grandmother had failed. Wishing that people would see and get to know Jackson for who he really was, beyond his last name didn't make the occurrence any less rare.

Somethings about the universe were immutable and unchanging. And it could all be measured by observation and explained by science. That's what Jackson believed. That's what life had taught him to believe.

But April pitied him for that. Which was hard to take.

Almost as hard as her initial reveal about her religion to Jackson in San Francisco. That had floored him as well. Of all the things Jackson had expected April to say to him out side their board exams, essentially 'I was a virgin for Jesus and now Jesus hates me' was absolute dead least on his list. This was a person he'd known for years, someone he cared about, and the fact that April was a deeply devout Christian _never_ came up in conversation. And how important could her vow of abstinence have been if she was able to give it up so many times?

That was still hard for Jackson to wrap his head around. On some level Jackson kind of chalked up April's religion as another quirk in an already quirky personality. It was easier to rationalize that way. Easier to ignore. Less of a problem. Jackson didn't know why it bothered him so much.

Part of it was because it seemed to Jackson like April's religion had caused the two of them a lot more trouble that it appeared to be worth. That's where her guilt and regret had come from in their initial relationship, after all. Jackson felt like April's beliefs only ever came up when it related to something that would make him feel miserable and threw a wrench in their life.

Jackson slipped his copy of the sonogram picture out of his pocket and held it out in front of them. April glanced tearfully at the paper, and ran her fingers along the outline of their baby. A whole new being created (quite vigorously) by the two of them. Part Jackson and part April, but also completely new. Completely his or her little self.

Blueberry sized.

When he really thought about it, the church thing probably wouldn't be so terrible. April obviously felt much stronger about her belief in the existence of God than he did in his views against the idea. While he was still skeptical about it all, Jackson figured he didn't have to change what he believed. He just had to push it all down and away from the fore. The same way he did with a lot of unpleasant feelings.

Jackson didn't have to try to change who he was. He just had to bend.

_This_ didn't have to make Jackson feel miserable or throw a wrench in his life. Work might suck at the moment, but Jackson ought to be happy about his life at home.

So, Jackson had slowly come to the realization that church was going to have to be a part of his life, whether he believed in it's teachings or not. (He didn't) His children would be exposed to it as well, whether they grew to believe in it all or not. (If he was perfectly honest with himself, Jackson kind of hoped that they wouldn't) He would expose them to his own belief system as now, Jackson was okay with that.

And the seats weren't that bad. And a Sunday waffles tradition might be fun. A fun thing to do with the not so hypothetical child. The kind of fun thing he'd rarely ever gotten to do with his own mother and father growing up.

Jackson wanted them to be happy about this.

He shook his head and chuckled, recalling April at lunch talking about baby names. Looking down at the sonogram, Jackson stretched his feet forward, "What about Jordan, if it's a boy?"

April peered up at him with a scowl and then followed Jackson's gaze down past the photograph to his sneakers, "As long as I am conscious, I will not let you name our child after a pair of shoes."

It seemed they had as different of taste in baby names as they did belief systems. He smirked, "A pair of shoes named after a great basketball player."

She shook her head, "No."

"Great name, boy or girl..."

"Jackson!"

"Alright," Jackson laughed. "Just saying."

April laughed too, gazing at the sonogram once more, with a look of wonder that she hadn't displayed in the appointment that morning. Jackson pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.

"Also...um, thanks," he added quietly. "For today...with Webber. That was pretty awesome."

She shook her head, "Of course. He was wrong. He shouldn't talk to you that way...it's not right. "

"It's just...I get that he's mad about Yang. I get that they all are."

"You didn't have anything to do with that, Jackson."

"I know! And my mom's calling me all the time and the board doesn't exactly _appreciate_ the fact that Grey Sloan is making it look like the Foundation is stifling their doctors. She's not happy about this appeal. Webber and the rest, I get where they are coming from. But...this could get bad. This hospital needs the Harper Avery Foundation a lot more than the foundation needs the hospital."

April frowned and looked up at him again, "What does that mean?"

Jackson shrugged, "I am hoping it doesn't come to that. I am gonna try and make sure it doesn't."

"Anything I can do?"

Where once Jackson would have said no right away, outright (because none of this was her problem really), he paused, tiling his head to once side. The thing was, Jackson was used to dealing with all things Avery, all on his own. It was _his _family, and therefore _his_ problem. Except now, he had another family. _This_ little family. Him, April, and this baby. They were Avery's too. Jackson took a deep breath.

Being together was infinitely better than being alone.

"Actually, if it gets down to the wire with the board...I might need your help."

April wrapped an arm around Jackson, and grinned, "Anytime."

Big win.

Too bad wins never seemed to last that long. If only life were that easy.

There were sonograms to come and check up appointments to come in the ensuing weeks and each seemed to be more joyful than the last. Jackson always made a point to come and delighted in watching as their blueberry turned into a grape. It was an amazing thing. He and April had this wonderful secret all to themselves, having chosen to hold off on telling people (though Jackson was sure a few could guess) about the pregnancy until they'd safely reached the second trimester. They dared to daydream, bickered over names, and tried to imagine what their baby would look like.

Jackson watched and touched as his wife's once flat abdomen began to grow, forming a small and distinct curve in her belly where their grape baby progressed to it's next stage of fruit. Noticeable if you knew to look (or knew the curves of April's body as intimately as Jackson did), but still small enough to leave most unaware.

Once again they were back in a little bubble of happiness, not unlike their rather short lived honeymoon period, and in it Jackson found bliss.

Especially given the fact that he still got grief from both the hospital board and his mother about Cristina Yang, researched funding, staff retention and anything else the two groups found to get angry at each other about. Grey Sloan Memorial was threatening mutiny. The Harper Avery Foundation was threatening to withdraw funding.

Jackson was caught in the middle. His mother wanted him to pull rank on the board and make the rest of the members all into line.

"This is how you lead, son," Catherine advised many times on the phone. "This is what I raised you to do. Get your legacy on. _Lead_ them from their own insanity. Or cut them loose. There's no choice."

Sometimes it felt like he almost never had a choice.

In life, people liked to think that they had control over things. Like you had the power over whatever happened to the people you loved. No one liked feeling powerless.

None the less, Jackson had worked at this hospital long enough to learn that powerlessness is almost a default human state. So many things are out of your control. Gunmen barge into hospitals, planes fall from the sky, and terrorists decide to blow up a truck outside a busy shopping center.

At least, that's what they'd thought at the time. It had been all over the news as the patients started to pour in and Jackson had suddenly found himself inundated with cases. Burns and skin lacerations and amputations. All gruesome. And even though the terror attack wasn't actually a terror attack it was still wreaking havoc on Seattle.

Jackson had spent most of that day in emergency surgeries, trying to salvage what he could of victims skin for future grafting. The last time he'd caught sight of his wife was as he took a patient out of triage on his way to an OR. April had been in her element, running the Emergency Room like a factory assembly line, with her arms in the air as she spoke with the residents. Half like she was a traffic cop directing chaotic traffic, and half like she was a conductor directing a glorious symphony.

Safe and in control. In the ER. _Her_ space. Just another day at the office, right?

And maybe it was the rush of patients, or the relief of finding out that this explosion was terrible accident and not a malicious attack, or the fact that he was ignoring the 11th message left on his phone from his mother (which he knew was probably about the foundation and not terrorism), or perhaps the small but confident nod his wife had given him when he saw her in the ER, but Jackson had let his guard down that day. He'd zoned in on his work and his patients and it had never occurred to him that anything could go wrong. He should have been paying better attention.

That an accident could still be just as bad and just as dangerous as an act of terror, even long after the explosions were finished.

Jackson hadn't even been fully able to process the situation when it was initially explained to him. He just couldn't hear the words over the suddenly thundering sound of his pulse, and the rising panic in his chest.

He gaped at Richard Webber and blinked, "I'm sorry, what?"

Board related animosity aside, Webber watched Jackson kindly. He was accompanied by a couple of official looking individuals with jackets that indicated they were from the CDC.

Richard sighed , slipping his hands to his hips as he repeated, "The truck that exploded...It was a chemical waste transport."

One of the CDC officials jumped in, "One of the patients, the driver, who came into the hospital and subsequently passed away, exposed high levels of chemical radiation to the physicians that worked on him or near him. We believe that the source was localized to that single patient so there doesn't seem to be too high of a risk for the hospital at large, though we are monitoring that very closely and treating those who were exposed."

Jackson flinched as Webber reached out to squeeze his shoulder, "Most of the ER staff are under quarantine. Including Dr. Kepner."

He wasn't usually one to invoke a higher power. But...

Oh God.

His wife. His child. A whole hot of possibilities ran through his mind. Chemicals and radiation. None of that was good. It wasn't good for a normal healthy person, and it wasn't good for a pregnant woman. And it sure as hell wasn't good for a grape sized, still developing, fetus.

The sheer Jackson's face must have been clear and he fumbled, "But they were following protocols. Masks and gowns and gloves and-"

"With levels that high, most precautions don't prevent exposure completely. They certainly protected the individuals involved. We don't expect many casualties from this, and that's down to your hospital's effective and proper use of safety standards."

Jackson was already staggering down the hall, using his feet and what was left of his rational mind to guide himself to Grey Sloan's designated quarantine space.

"_Many _casualties?" he demanded aggressively. "You don't expect _many_?"

Maddeningly indifferent (at least to Jackson's eyes) the other official explained, "The quarantine is more of a precaution than anything else. Only a few of them are exhibiting symptoms. Fatigue, itching. That sort of thing. Some have rashes. A few have respiratory distress. One presenting with extreme nausea-"

And that was the last Jackson heard because he was running. He didn't even care about whatever it was Webber was calling out after him, or about anything else the CDC had to say. Because he was running. He was running down one hall and the next. He was flying down the stairs and dashing through more halls.

Jackson was running to his family.

At some point a pair of gruff arms blocked his way, "Sir! Sir! You can't go past this point. This is a quarantine zone."

"I don't give a damn!" Jackson shouted, straining to break free. Because even though he understood the importance and necessity of not breaking quarantines in dangerous situations, all he could think about was April. Was she alright? He didn't even want to let himself think too much about what radiation exposure could mean for the baby.

Suddenly it was hard to breathe.

A pair of gentler hands guided him in a different direction, away from the disgruntled CDC official.

"Avery..." Arizona spoke quietly, leading him down a different hallway. "They're not gonna let you in. The CDC hasn't let any of us in. They've got their own people handling this. Come with me. You have to go the back way, to the windows..."

She led Jackson quickly through the growing plethora of CDC doctors who seemed to be arriving and descending upon the hospital like locusts. Through hallways that once had seemed familiar and welcoming to him, but which now only held terror and fear, finally stopping in front of the long floor to ceiling window of what was once a Grey's Sloan waiting room.

Through the glass Jackson could see the rows of hospital beds lined up in the small space they'd converted for quarantine. Beds that were supposed to be for patients, now filled with faces Jackson knew. Dr. Conrad and Dr. Myers. A few others. Most looked fine. They were sitting up and on the edges of beds, looking bored and frustrated as they anxiously typed on their phones.

Bokhee had wore an oxygen mask. Nurse Tyler looked uncomfortable and lay curled up in a ball on his bed, scratching furiously against his his upper arms. Murphy appeared to be worse off then him. Angry red rashes covered the parts of exposed skin that Jackson could see as the young woman moaned pitifully, sweating and laying in a fetal position in her bed. A CDC nurse, decked out in protective clothing that looked like it was designed for outer space, was carefully applying a cream to the back of Leah's neck.

But Jackson's gaze froze when he saw who occupied the bed in the corner, set apart among the rest with a small curtain, and nearest to the window. It was April, looking pale and uncomfortable, and holding a red biohazard bag in her lap as a different CDC nurse appeared to be taking her vitals.

The need for the bag (and the curtain) became immediately apparent, when April leaned forward and wretched into the bag violently. Jackson and Arizona both winced.

This was torture. Jackson felt powerless. He could see April, but he couldn't touch her.

Jackson placed his hand on the quarantine glass just as April looked up and met his wide eyed gaze. It seemed as though she was about to say something to him, because she pulled a brief weak smile, but the moment was quickly lost when she doubled over and vomited into the bio bag once again.

Bubbles pop so easily. And as ever, it just seemed like Jackson couldn't win.


	3. A Hillbilly with a Pocket Knife

**A/N: Hey guys! Thank you all so much for your feedback! Here we are with a quick update before the finale. I don't think the finale is going to be anything like this though, but I figured I'd put this out before Thursday. Some tough topics and conversations are ahead in this chapter, but I suppose that is what this story is about, so please hang in there. (Really) There's a lot of other less heavy stuff to come too. Please let me know what you think. Enjoy. **

* * *

_A Hillbilly with a Pocket Knife_

April's first Harper Avery Foundation board meeting was actually an emergency hearing that she attended via teleconference from her quarantine room at the hospital.

Really, it probably didn't even count as an actual meeting, given that April had been hunched over in her bed, squinting at an ipad screen. In time, she'd attend countless more formal proceedings, full of business suits, and swivel chairs and everything else she'd imagined to exist in the board room of a multimillion dollar foundation (along with all the things she'd never imagined).

But technically, that first time, her first experience taking part in the machine that was the Harper Avery Foundation, the first time April felt she'd made a difference in the organization, had occurred while she was stuck in a hospital bed.

During one of the darkest moments of her life.

Jackson sat to her left, just beyond the quarantine glass, staring at his own tablet's camera intently. That spot in the hallway had become his home it seemed. Jackson ate there. He slept there. He was close enough to touch, if not for the glass. April wanted nothing more than to hold his hand, but when he was allowed in the room with her, Jackson had to wear as much protective gear as her CDC caretakers. Any visitor had to, until she tested clear of contamination. Though that meant that actual touch was out of the question, those clothes had kept Jackson safe.

And really? In the moment, that was all April had wanted. At least _someone_ she loved was okay.

Her husband spoke to her through the video chat as they waited for the conference call with Boston to begin.

"We don't have to do this," Jackson implored, looking every bit as tired and worn out as April felt. "_You_ don't have to do this."

The earnest and terror filled expression on his face is so intense on her tablet's screen that April turned to the window look at her husband in the read world. Jackson raised his head too, placing his hand on the glass window separating them. April lifted her own shaking hand to the same spot. It was the closest she'd come to touching her husband without protective gear in nearly a week. And it wasn't enough.

How much things could change in one terrible week.

April's voice was thick as she'd tried to hold in her tears, "_Yes_ I do. There are a lot of things I can't do right now, Jackson."

She couldn't leave the quarantine. She couldn't make Jackson feel better. She couldn't make herself feel better either. Worst of all, April couldn't protect her baby. She'd just been getting used to the idea of a baby. Excited even. Thrilled. Sticking sonogram photos on the fridge. Being good about exercising and eating healthy. Staying away from x-rays and smokers and everything else she'd thought was potentially harmful.

Except contaminated emergency trauma patients, of course. Everything except her precious work.

April wasn't even really a mother yet, and it felt like she'd already failed her child. Utterly and completely.

At first, the CDC didn't even know what chemicals she and the baby were exposed to. The truck crash and subsequent explosion, revealed an underlying weakness in the chemical waste transportation system. It was staggering to find that it seemed that no one knew exactly what the truck had been carrying through a well populated metropolitan area.

_How_ could someone not keep better track of something like that? How could they not having tracking systems and checklists?

April had treated several critical patients injured in the explosion, and one of them, despite all the protocols she'd followed, _rules_ that she _trusted, _exposed not only her but most of her staff to dangerously high levels of unknown chemicals. Murphy had it the worst it seemed, experiencing the complete gamut of symptoms, from rashes, to nausea, to trouble breathing. Bokhee was also not faring well or experiencing as quick of a recovery due to her age. And then April of course, had been a special case due to her pregnancy, which required many more tests and close monitoring.

She and her little lemonish sized fetus, warranted their own CDC obstetric specialist, flown in from DC, as well as a slew of extra medication to help combat the contamination. There were many questions, but few answers.

At one point the fear had been that the waste the trauma team was exposed to was nuclear radiation. That had sent April into a spiral of worries, half remembered studies she'd read in medical school about the medical devastation left behind in the wake of disasters like Hiroshima and Chernobyl for survivors, and in particular on the women who'd been pregnant at the time of the events, and the children born as a result. She was a physician, she'd learned about all of this stuff in school. This kind of thing might not have been her specialty, but what April did know was enough. The only time she'd needed oxygen in all of this had nothing to do with her chemical exposure.

Upon hearing talk of nuclear radiation, April had had a severe panic attack.

But it seemed that she'd 'lucked' out in a few ways. The CDC was able to rule out nuclear waste at least. And the treatments they were implementing were apparently working, and most of the trauma staff (with the exception of Murphy and Bokhee) seemed to be on the mend.

Best of all, an ultrasound told them that the baby's heart was still beating strong. When the sound had filled the room during her examination, both Jackson and April had cried. Their baby's heart was still beating. Whatever the extent of chemical exposure April had, it didn't seem like it was causing her to miscarry. Yet, anyway. Which was both good and bad. Because even though the exposure wasn't making her lose the baby, it had almost certainly impacted fetal development. Currently, April was being subjected to a battery of tests and examinations. The OB was trying to determine what impact the chemical exposure would have on the baby and it's viability, but so far they knew the baby was still alive.

That was about all they knew, but it was something. Now all that was left was wait for the test results.

So, there were a lot of things April couldn't do. Many aspects of her life she didn't have control over. She _needed_ to be able to do something other than wait and pray.

April sniffed and tapped her fingers on the glass near Jackson's hand, "I can do this. I want to do this. Let me help. Please? Let me be able to help with something...please?"

Because April was _barely_ holding it together and so many things were out of her control and the one thing she could do would be to vote in a stupid meeting to save the hospital that she loved. She couldn't protect her baby, her husband or herself, but maybe, just maybe, she could protect her work place.

April understood Jackson's concerns. She got that he was worried about her and the baby. As he should be. April could tell that her husband felt hopeless and helpless. But that was nothing compared to how April felt. Because all of this was _her_ fault, not his.

Physically, she didn't feel _that _bad. Okay. Well, she had kind of felt miserable and achy and barfed a lot of the time, but she couldn't really distinguish if that was a symptom of her pregnancy or of the chemical exposure.

But emotionally? April was a wreck. Waiting for test results was agonizing. The guilt that she felt for being the reason that her child was in danger was eating her alive. She was the one who'd been exposed. It was _her_ body, her blood vessels pumping her little lemon with whatever poison it was, and there was nothing April could do to change that. The possibilities of consequences were devastating. The pressure and the fear of the unknown felt like it would crush her. She knew that she was very close to snapping. If not for prayer, and her faith that God had a plan in all of this, _somewhere,_ April didn't think she would've held it together.

She was dangerously close to _not_ being able to hold it together. She was dangerously close to succumbing to the yawning black chasm of sadness and panic that threatened at every moment to overwhelm her. She knew falling off of that cliff into a darkness of emotion would leave her curled up in a corner sobbing somewhere for days. Maybe even forever.

April didn't even know if she could come back from that. It was so easy to get lost.

And what had April turned to every other time in her life when she'd faced hard feelings such as these?

When people ridiculed her at school, April studied. When her supposed junior prom date had told her the truth about asking her on out as a dare, and subsequently backed out of taking her, April had thrown herself into helping her sister, Kimmie prepare for the dance instead. When she'd tripped over her best friend's dead body, faced down a gunman and lost another close friend, April had worked tirelessly to get herself cleared for surgery.

April needed to keep herself busy. This Harper Avery meeting would fill that need.

Jackson had stared at her intently through the glass, brow furrowed as though he was thinking very hard. Calculating. April swallowed hard and looked down at her hands. She was afraid. For the baby, obviously, (that concern was the most paramount) but also because she was pretty sure that if something did turn out to be wrong with their child, the two of them would disagree about how to proceed. Because they saw the world differently. In this situation, no amount of compromise or waffles could change that.

And then Jackson would hate her. She'd hate herself.

Plus, Jackson was as messed up as she was and this was one way to avoid thinking about the baby for a while. He seemed to have come to the same conclusion, because he sighed and spoke quietly, "Okay...right. That's what we'll do then. I-I could use your vote."

Jackson did need her vote. Catherine Avery and the formidable Harper Avery Foundation in no way appreciated the way that the other Grey Sloan board members responded to Cristina Yang's Harper Avery loss. Nor were they pleased with the perceived mutiny coming from the board either, and the way that Webber was publicly implying that Harper Avery money was hurting the hospitals chances at attracting the best talent. It also seemed there was trouble in paradise between her mother in law and the former chief. All these things and more had been building for weeks, though April felt that Jackson had shielded her from most things involving the Harper Avery Foundation.

Added all together it was a recipe for disaster.

Then, when the actual disaster happened, it seemed that Catherine and the Harper Avery Foundation were on a war path. They were threatening to withdraw their critical funding of Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital. Despite the ownership that the plane crash survivors had in the hospital, it simply could not function without backing from the Harper Avery Foundation. Cristina's appeal alone was enough to irk them, but Catherine all but lost it when she found out that her own daughter in law's health had been compromised in responding to the supposed terrorism in Seattle. Nothing April or Jackson had been able to say over the phone seemed to be able to convince the formidable woman that the situation wasn't a part of some huge safety failure on Grey Sloan Memorial's part.

Not that she even knew how bad the situation with April really was. Catherine did not know that her daughter in law was pregnant. She just knew that she was sick and wanted something to blame.

April had thought about that day over and over in her head. She'd run the ER perfectly; they'd saved 80% of the patients injured in the explosion, including ones with extremely severe burns. She'd worn a mask, gown, and gloves at all times when treating incoming patients. So did all her staff. They'd done everything they were supposed to. Everything that doctors were sworn to do. And it blew up in their faces. Grey Sloan didn't cause any of it. April didn't blame them.

It was her fault she got exposed to chemical radiation. Not the hospital's.

Now Harper Avery was poised to not only withdraw funding from Grey Sloan altogether, but to use their considerable clout to discredit the hospital for being somehow at fault for the accidental contamination.

Where once the Harper Avery Foundation had felt huge and intimidating, it's responsibilities and pressures now seemed like a welcome respite to April when compared to worrying about what was going on inside of her own body. Compared to what was potentially happening to her own child on her watch. That felt more foreign to April than a board meeting.

In anger, she'd accused Jackson's family once of only caring about the Foundation. The medicine. The work. When she was mad, April sometimes thought that it seemed like Avery's put those ideas above more important things like faith, friendships, and even family.

And maybe they did. But right now, April kind of understood why. Perhaps for them the medicine, the foundation in particular, was a force larger than themselves. Something bigger that made all the bad things that happened in life seem less consequential. Less painful.

April looked back up and held Jackson's gaze again as the call to Boston finally went through. He swallowed and tried to smile at her, but the expression that fell across his handsome features more resembled a grimace.

In an instant their tablets burst to life, revealing not only their own video images, but now providing a window into a dim board room in Boston.

Catherine's brow furrowed in a very familiar way when she saw not only her son, but his wife as well, "Jackson, you didn't need to drag April into all of this. Honey, aren't you supposed to be resting?"

Jackson replied before April could even open her mouth. They did that a lot. Catherine and Jackson. Sometimes it seemed their conversations traveled at the speed of light and transformed in to arguments _just_ as quickly.

"Mom, I am sure she'd rest a lot better if you and the foundation weren't threatening to suspend funding to the hospital she's trying to recover in!"

April knew that the edge in Jackson's voice came from the same panic and terror that coiled up in her own heart. She knew Jackson felt irritation over the uncertainty surrounding their child and put off by the fact that this vote was actually happening because his mother pushed for it.

April knew this, but Catherine clearly did not.

"Sweetie," she admonished calmly snapping the fingers of her left hand for effect. "We'll transfer her if it comes to that. We can transfer her to the best hospital in the country in an instant. But this is bigger than April. Somebody has to take responsibility. Grey Sloan has allowed no less than 10 members of it's own staff to fall victim to chemical exposure."

This time April managed to find her voice. It was surprisingly steady. "I think you don't understand what-"

Jackson didn't seem to notice April and continued speaking to his mother, "You still didn't have to push this! You don't have to go after Grey Sloan Memorial."

"I'm not going after anyone," Catherine replied stiffly. "I am protecting the foundation's interests. We can't be associated with a sub-par institution. Grey Sloan Memorial needs us. Not the other way around. That is a fact. You and April don't even need to be here."

Jackson glared into his tablet screen, "You want to pull the rug out from under our hospital and you don't think we need to be here? _We_ work here! And even if we didn't, April and I have the right to vote. The Harper Avery Foundation is a family foundation, right mom? Isn't that what you are always telling me? My wife is my family."

The words gave Catherine a moment of pause that April didn't quite understand. For herself, April felt her husband's words ran deeper. Because they were more than a couple now. They really _were _a family. As long as the baby growing inside of her had a heartbeat they were a unit all and of themselves. She'd realized that she really didn't want to ever lose that.

Only April couldn't really control the outcome.

Board meetings, it turned out, (even emergency ones) could be very heated affairs. Overwhelming even for a seasoned trauma surgeon. (And no place for any 15 year old, as far as she was concerned.) April and Jackson's weren't the only people at the meeting who opposed defunding Grey Sloan Memorial. What followed was a verbal boxing match that would have made April's head spin, if she'd actually been in the board room with Catherine Avery and the 14 other board members. Or maybe that dizzy feeling she felt was because she was pregnant. Or maybe it was because she was contaminated.

April couldn't really tell.

And then of course there were the moments in the debate when all the attention turned to her and Jackson. He did brilliantly, strangely at ease with it all, but also visibly irritated.

"_Of course_ Yang is mad," Jackson rolled his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall behind him in exasperation. "_Of course_ she is appealing! We should not penalize a whole hospital for a situation we created! What kind of an organization does that? Is this the kind of organization we want to be?"

When it was her turn to speak, April felt less confident. It all felt like a test. Like one of those oral exams you took in medical school. Only this time she wasn't prepared and she wasn't ready. She could just _feel_ the whole board staring at her. It must have been obvious to them that April had never taken part in any sort of foundation proceeding before. They were all clearly people of a certain world. The kind of world Catherine and Jackson knew well.

April felt distinctly out of place. And different. And guilty. For all she had a need to feel busy, in an instant April felt ill. Maybe she _shouldn't_ try to distract herself. Maybe she _should _be allowing her emotions to fall into the never ending pit of despair and worry over her unborn child. Maybe she was being a bad mother all over again.

The bile rose in her throat and she swallowed hard. On her tablet screen she saw Jackson turn his head to look at her through the quarantine window. Even in profile, she saw the concern in his face. But then, as quickly as it had vanished, April found her voice again, even though it was a tad shaky.

"I-I," she stammered, electing to look everywhere but her ipad screen. "I don't think it was right to nominate Cristina Yang for the Harper Avery Award if you..uh, if the foundation already knew there was no chance for her to win. That's not fair."

When April glanced back to her tablet screen, Catherine was pursing her lips and watching intently. Even thousands of miles away April could practically feel the woman's gaze.

"And," April continued. "If the surgeons of a hospital funded by the Harper Avery Foundation can never win in the first place, then why even nominate them? I think the foundation should be upfront about that..."

Catherine huffed, "Cristina Yang is an it girl. Her work with 3D printing? That _is_ revolutionary. Now that she's left Grey Sloan she could easily garner another nomination for the Harper Avery Award. And no doubt this time, she'll win. There was no reason to throw away that kind publicity!"

"But that publicity doesn't make it right!"

"Shows how prepared you are to be a member of this organization, honey," her mother in law chastised gently. "Right and wrong go out the window. What's _best_ is all that matters."

"What's best?" April felt her hackles rise. "What's best for who?"

For the first time in days, she saw a true smile flash across her husband's face. He always seemed to like it when April lost control and let out the thoughts she held in. When it wasn't directed at him anyway. Jackson believed in her.

Unwilling to allow Catherine to get a word in edgewise, April began to count down in her fingers, "Defunding Grey Sloan wouldn't benefit Seattle. It wouldn't benefit the patients we serve. Or the physicians who work here. This place is more than a hospital. It's been a family to us. I trust this place to take care of me..."

She swallowed hard and and held back the onslaught of tears that always came when she thought about or had to speak about her pregnancy. It wasn't exactly the way she'd hoped to share the news of her pregnancy with her mother in law, but then again, this wasn't exactly turning out to be the pregnancy she'd hoped to have. And this was the only thing she could think of that could possibly sway Catherine's mind. Because if something did turn out to be wrong with her child (and she knew that the possibility was very high at this point), there was only one place she could imagine treating her baby.

"I trust this place to take care of me and your future grandchild."

That stopped Catherine Avery dead in her tracks, as an expression of wonder and worry took over her features. Turned out April could do something after all. And that carried over to more than just her mother in law. Her outburst pretty much stunned the rest of the board into silence as well. And at the end of the meeting the votes to keep funding Grey Sloan came in at 9 to 8.

Very tight, but April was willing to count it as a win. At this point, she was happy when anything went her way.

* * *

The weeks following the big Harper Avery vote went by in a blur for April. She realized she was probably in shock. Jackson too. He was quiet. Too quiet. They let her go home after a week of testing free of chemicals. She was the second to last of the contaminated staff to be allowed to go home.

Bokhee pulled through. Murphy didn't.

April cried into Jackson's shoulder the first night she was home as they sat on the couch of their darkened apartment. And for many nights to follow, as soon as they came home from work. Those first few days back home were stilted for them. Filled with the kind of silences of people who are in shock. And confusion. Neither Jackson nor April knew if it was okay to be happy she was home and on the mend. Neither of them knew how frightened they should be about their baby. So for a while there were only tears and silences in the Avery apartment.

Some things felt better left unsaid. Some questions unasked.

At first all of this, the marriage, the baby, all of it had seemed to be going so quickly. Even though Jackson and April had found a way to be happy about their little surprise, she'd worried that things were moving too fast.

Now she longed for the time mere weeks earlier then _that_ had been her biggest worry.

The sob sessions generally followed the same conversational format.

"I'm so sorry, Jackson."

Jackson always kissed the top of her head and pulled April close, "You've got nothing to be sorry for."

"You don't hate me?"

"I love you."

Even after an inconclusive amniocentesis, they still had no conclusive information about the health of their baby, aside from the fact that his tiny heart was still beating. The test had revealed that the baby was a boy but Jackson and April weren't really able to find the normal joy in that. She was afraid to risk another invasive procedure. The CDC doctor told them that any problems caused by the radiation exposure would likely not be evident until later in the pregnancy, if April chose to proceed. Some problems might not even become diagnosable until well after the child was born.

If he survived.

That said, the CDC doctor did have a pretty clear idea of what there was worry about, and both Jackson and April knew enough about fetal development to know some of those possibilities themselves. The baby could have problems with facial deformities, eyes, lung development, and bone development. The OB was particularly worried about bone formation, and more specifically rib cage development and adequate lung space, based on the stage of fetal development, and the timing of April's exposure.

Odds to odds, there was a strong possibility this baby would have problems with his lungs. And you needed lungs to live.

Over dinner during April's third week home, Jackson started asking the questions they'd been unwilling to face. Saying things that both of them didn't want to hear. Everything April was afraid to talk about. By the middle of the discussion, pulling them into the kinds of conversations that revealed just how different they both really were.

"We really need to consider all the possibilities here, April," Jackson said in frustration after April tried to divert this thread of the conversation again and again. "Even the ones you don't want to think about."

April swallowed heard and looked down at her plate, unable to hold his gaze. The _way_ Jackson looked at her. She could tell he was torn up inside. Gutted by the situation. Gutted for what he as suggesting.

"I don't know," she mumbled finally. "I guess I am just hoping and praying for the best..."

Jackson set down his fork and held his head in his hands, "What if this turns out to be the worst case scenario? What if he has no lungs? Dr. Gordon said that there is a possibility of that."

"He also said lung problems could just as easily be less severe. The baby might just have smaller lungs..."

Dr. Gordon had no real answers. This wasn't some genetic problem that could be detected by looking at DNA. It wasn't an inherited disease that could be picked up on an ultrasound. In spite of all her rampant feelings of guilt, April preferred to air on the side of optimism. She had faith. Or at least, she was trying to.

"The amnio was inconclusive," Jackson reasoned.

April shot back, "They can be sometimes. Even in normal pregnancies."

"But what if it _is_ the worst case, April? Say he is born with no lungs? How much suffering would the baby go through? How much suffering would _you_ go through?Or me? We'd end up watching him die."

"I'm not going to terminate," she shook her head, hand instinctively moving to her rounded belly. "If that's what you're suggesting, Jackson! I don't think I can."

She knew they had different views on the subject, but April also knew that even if she'd had different personal beliefs all along, she was already too far into this to get an abortion. Her body was changing so much. She had trouble fitting into certain pants. She had sonogram pictures that depicted something recognizably baby like. She craved odd things like turnips and peanut butter.

She'd heard heartbeats. Maybe things would be different for April if there was no heart beating.

Jackson sighed, "I've always been pro choice. I always thought that woman's body was hers and so the decision should be hers. But..."

"But?" April snapped, pointing her finger at him across the table. "But what? No buts!"

"But you have to understand that it's not just about you, April! And it's not just about me-"

April crossed her arms, "I never said it was!"

"Will you let me finish?" her husband said firmly. "What if he is just really sick? How are we going to handle raising a sick child? What kind of life do we want for our son? We're both doctors, we know how bad it can be. Are we willing to subject our child to a life of pain? Dr. Gordon said there is a 65% percent chance that the baby might need long term breathing assistance. He might never be able to breathe on his own."

April scowled. Jackson was using statistics. He knew how much she loved them.

"There is also a 35% chance he will be able to breathe on his own with no long term assistance."

"April! The statistics are not in our favor."

Tears welled in April's eyes, "I know!"

"You are basically opposed to termination under any circumstances? I mean, late term abortions exist for a reason. We're not talking about an accident or mistake that two people want to forget about. This is about parents making the best medical decision for the health of a baby who might have a terrible quality of life. I don't want my son to have a short painful life, just because we can't make a difficult choice."

"Jackson!"

What her husband did next sent tears rolling down April's cheeks, but it also made her blood boil.

Jackson rolled his eyes and slammed his fist to the table in frustration, "So, our child has to suffer just because his mother in is devout Christian?"

Back to the same old argument.

Since leaving Moline, April had always shied away from describing herself as devout. It wasn't a label that non believers really seemed to see in a positive light. People hear devout and they make assumptions you and shut you out. April was already shut out enough. That was a huge part of the reason why she'd first hidden her faith upon moving to Seattle.

"Shut up!"

April scooted back her chair and retreated into their bed room, flopping on to the bed and sobbing into her pillow. He was doing it again. Making her feel like he was patronizing her silly beliefs. Patronizing her for daring to want to keep carrying the baby boy she already loved. Worst of all, Jackson's words confirmed the truth that April already knew. She was a terrible mother. She was the reason her son might be sick. She was the reason he might feel pain.

Her and no on else.

Following hot in her heels, Jackson groaned and held his head in his hands, "I'm sorry! April, I didn't mean that. I really didn't"

"Then why did you say it?"

She felt the bed dip, taking on his weight as he sat on the corner of the bed, but didn't turn to look at him.

Jackson sighed, and spoke with a voice almost as thick as hers, "I don't know. I'm just...I guess I'm just mad at the situation."

April laughed humorlessly, "Join the club."

He seemed to take her statement literally and laid down on the bed next to April, placing his head on the other end of the pillow and watching her with tearful eyes. After a long silence Jackson spoke.

"I had to ask, April...about terminating and stuff. Because we have to be sure. While there is still time for us to make a choice. We have to be sure we can do this."

"For me there isn't a choice," April shook her head. "For me there never was..."

Jackson sighed and closed his eyes, "Okay...then I guess...I guess that's the plan. We'll-we'll handle this. Whatever comes."

She reached out her hand and laced her fingers through his, seeing the pain she felt echoed in Jackson's elegant features. April had dreamed of having children all of her life. It's what Kepner women did. Have babies. She'd imagined telling her husband in oh so many cutesy ways. That didn't happen. She'd imagined having a beautiful baby shower with her mother and sisters. That wasn't going to happen, because April didn't think she could make it through such an affair without a complete and total mental breakdown. She'd imagined taking in all of her child's first milestones. Walking, talking, school, graduations and everything in between.

Now there was a very strong possibility that those things would never happen too.

April squeezed her husband's hand, "You know, you and my faith are probably the only things holding me together right now. Like literally, without it I think I might be in a straight jacket. I just...I believe God has a plan for us, Jackson."

She _had_ to believe God had a plan. Even if that plan was to give this tiny soul growing inside of her life for only short while.

Her husband opened his eyes and shook his head, "Why would your God want us to suffer like that? Why would He want the baby to suffer?"

"We don't know that he will."

Jackson turned to face the ceiling, "We don't know anything for sure."

"We do know some things," April countered carefully. "I love our son and I know you do too."

"Well, yeah."

"What better parents to give a sick child to, than a pair of surgeons?" God didn't make mistakes, even if April hated him for it.

Her husband sighed in frustration and continued to stare upwards. Clearly the sentiment didn't give him nearly as much comfort as it gave her.

Jackson didn't get it. And how could he? April was beginning to understand more and more that Jackson really did perceive the world in a completely different way from her. It was no wonder it felt like they were speaking a completely different language sometimes. They may as well have been. April closed her eyes, letting her hand move gently across her pregnant belly as she tried to think about this in the same way that her husband might.

"Even if," she began tentatively. "Even if God and religion was only a figment of the mind, not...not real...It's still something that is present across all cultures and civilizations right? Even if not all people have faith, it's part of societies in general, right?"

"Right."

"So it's a part of evolution. There's a reason it's there. Religions _evolved_ to make people feel better."

Jackson almost chuckled, "Hell of an adaptation..."

A faint smile graced April's face as well, "Yeah, but it's an adaptation that gets people through hard times. And it's not the only adaptation that helps with that, right? We've got a whole bunch. Religion, resilience, grief, law, comfort food. All kinds of things. I mean, it shows just how far human beings can go to survive something terrible."

"Human beings can get through some terrible things," Jackson agreed, sounding pensive.

April turned to snuggled closer to her husband, adding tearfully, "And doesn't that mean _we _can go pretty far to survive something terrible?"

"What do you mean? You can use faith and religion and I can lean on deep dish pizza and science?" Jackson joked.

"Maybe..."

Her husband wrapped his arms around April and held her close, leaning his chin against the top of her head, and whispering, "I don't actually know if I can survive this."

"Me neither," April admitted. "I mean, I think I can. I think _we_ can. I think we can get though this together. But don't know for sure. I just have to try to hold on and have the faith that we-Oh!"

Her hand quickly moved back to her stomach, as she lost her train of thought, totally distracted by the strange sensations of movement in her abdomen. He was moving! Their baby was moving! The feeling was distinct and where there were moments in the past when April had wondered whether she felt her child moving or if she was misidentifying a case of gas, in this moment, for the first time, she knew for certain that this feeling was her child.

"He's kicking! Or...moving...or something. I can feel him."

April quickly placed Jackson's hand over the spot and they both waited eagerly for the movement to come again. For the first time in weeks all their fears and worries melted away and they were both completely present in the moment. Waiting for their son to move again.

"There!" April announced when she felt the flutter again with a giggle. "Did you feel that?"

Jackson watched her lovingly, "It's probably too a little too early. But I can feel you laughing. It's been a while since I've seen you do that..."

There was one more flutter and April sighed in awe, "It feels so weird."

"He probably doesn't like us fighting," her husband explained in a goofy voice, moving down so he could speak with her rounded abdomen. "Is that your game little guy? We're sorry. We probably should stop talking about you like you're not even here. Your Daddy hates that too..."

April sniffed and wiped fresh tears from her eyes as she listened to Jackson talk to their unborn baby. One dream she'd had about becoming a parent had actually come true. And even though the circumstances of the pregnancy hadn't changed at all, from that moment on, as soon as April felt her baby move, it was like a cloud had lifted.

The remaining weeks and months of April's pregnancy went by in a whirlwind. Since she was considered to be extremely high risk, Owen had her on admin and teaching duty, and reduced shifts. Which gave her plenty of time to indulge in the nesting instinct that came to her in full force during the latter half of her pregnancy. A rather dangerous perk of being married to an Avery was that deliriously high credit limit.

However, it was hard to prepare for a baby you weren't sure would ever come home.

Both Jackson and April both spent a lot of time doing spare rotations in the NICU, and talking to other parents of sick children trying to learn as much as they could about what lay ahead for them and how they might cope if the most dire of their OB's concerns actually came to be. They learned as much as they could about what probably lay ahead. But by the time April was nearing the end of her long labor, that didn't feel like it was nearly enough.

Bearing down, April gripped Jackson's hand tightly and whimpered, "Oh God!"

"Okay April, we need one more big push," their OB encouraged from the other end of the bed. "Your baby is almost here."

"Prep the incubator," Arizona instructed her team on the other side of the room. She'd assembled her best residents and nurses, and brought along all the most advanced life saving equipment for distressed newborns. They were ready for the birth of her son, but April was not.

"I can't...I-"

She wasn't crying because of the pain. Okay. Well, she was, but only a little. Giving birth hurt. She was mostly crying because she was terrified. Because she'd also always imagined that the birth of her child would end with a screaming, wriggling baby being placed in her arms, and right now she knew that was probably not going to be a reality. And for all her faith in God's plan, April was exhausted and emotionally worn out, and she honestly had no idea how she would face the silence.

In the hazy logic of late stage labor, holding him in seemed like a great idea for keeping her son alive. Even if it tore April apart.

Then she heard Jackson's voice speaking calmly into her ear, "You can do this. I know you can."

Breathing heavily, April leaned her head back and closed her eyes, taking one final moment to collect herself and to send out a quick prayer, before she gave one final push.

Please don't let him be dead. Please don't let her baby be dead.

And really, if April didn't already believe in God, what happened the next moment would sway any doubts. Because even though her dream of a crying baby didn't materialize. The nightmare everyone had been trying to prepare her for? The sound of silence and death?

It wasn't there either.

After a burst of splitting pain, April heard her baby. He was wheezing and gurgling. Clearly it was a struggle, but he was definitely breathing. Definitely alive. April turned to Jackson with wide eyes. He still held her hand, but all of his focus was on their tiny son as the OB and Arizona quickly examined him. The baby was immediately handed off to the NICU team and placed into an incubator. It all happened so quickly. April got a quick glimpse of thick black hair and that was it.

"We'll take good care of him," Arizona called out as she wheeled the incubator out of April's room. "I promise."

Suddenly feeling a crushing sense of emptiness, April buried her face in Jackson's neck and sobbed. Dreams were so very fragile.


	4. The Grand Bargain

**A/N: Alright folks, here is the latest chapter! Thank you so much for your support and please let me know what you think!  
**

* * *

_The Grand Bargain_

Catherine and Harper Avery were in the middle of a major budgeting meeting when her phone buzzed across the table.

Normally, she had a rule that banned phone use by all board members during even standard meetings because distractions would only slow the work down. She didn't want to preside over a meeting (especially not one as important as budget planning for the fiscal year) where she looked out to find a table full of board member's fiddling with their smart phones.

For one thing, most of the old fools (the budget committee was mostly Harper's age group) didn't even know how to use the damn gadgets.

But in this case, Catherine would allow an exception. It was her son's name that came up on the caller id after all, and she knew that her daughter in law had been in labor for most of the previous night.

Grabbing the phone and quickly excusing herself from the room, Catherine rushed into the hallway and held the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Mom!" Jackson anxiously answered. In the background she could clearly hear the sound of April sobbing uncontrollably.

Catherine's heart plummeted to the floor and she feared the worst. The baby had probably been stillborn. It wasn't like she hadn't known that it was a possibility from almost the very moment she was informed that she was going to have a grandchild. His brief exposure to toxic chemicals through his mother treating a patient had impacted her grandson's lung development. Maintaining the pregnancy at all was a risky move, but not surprising in someone who was pro life, such as April. Catherine isn't sure what she would have done in the same circumstance.

Catherine had mostly joined Jackson and April in their optimistic and hopeful stance throughout the remainder of the pregnancy, but a small part of her had always feared the worst.

Which also made Catherine angry.

All of this because Richard and everyone at that _damned_ hospital couldn't avoid having yet another catastrophic event? Catherine had all but convinced herself that the place was a lemon, a bad investment even, despite what her son and other board members felt. Between explosions and shootings, bus explosions and chemical contamination, not to mention _plane crashes_ it seemed as though Grey Sloan Memorial only brought pain, suffering, and death to it's own physicians.

And now to their innocent unborn children as well.

No other hospital Catherine had ever encountered, and certainly no hospital that the Harper Avery Foundation had ever been associated with had a similar track record. Jackson and April might have swayed the board vote in favor of continuing to fund Grey Sloan Memorial, but the matter was still not closed for Catherine Avery.

She was not ready to forgive. Or to forget. And frankly, she didn't understand Jackson and April's attachment to the place at all.

"What happened?" she asked, trying to hide the lump that was already forming in the back of her throat as she thought of her son and daughter in law and the pain they must be feeling.

Her poor babies.

"Uh," Jackson's voice wavered, but not in the way Catherine might have expected. "He's here, Mom. He's here and he's alive. Seven and a half pounds! Lots of hair..."

He almost laughed then, clearly feeling some pride and joy in becoming a father. For a split second she forgot the situation almost laughed with him. The words took Catherine's breath away. She was a grandmother!

"Oh, my! Congratulations, honey."

"It's a bit shaky though," Jackson's weary voice continued. "He's in the NICU. We didn't get to see him too much before they took him back. He is having breathing problems..."

Catherine winced as April's tearful voice cut into the phone call, "He was gray! And you could hear him trying so h-hard to breathe. It's all my fault-"

If that wasn't the sound of anguish...

A lump came to Catherine's throat as her daughter in law's panicky sentence dissolved into a sob and she heard her son's voice drop into a whisper as he spoke to his wife, "Hey...hey, it's not your fault, April. You did great. Right now he's alive, okay?"

For the time being anyway. That was some comfort.

The conversation quickly finished, with Catherine promising to fly out to Seattle that very evening on the very first flight she could find. It was clear that the new parents were emotionally worn out and frightened. She could tell that Jackson was doing the best he could (and a damned fine job at that) to support April, but Catherine also knew that he'd need someone there to support him, even if he'd never ask for it. Jackson needed his family.

Walking briskly back into the board room, Catherine announced, "This meeting is adjourned, we'll resume at a later date. Harper and I need to go to Seattle. My assistant Henry will be in touch with your assistants to reschedule another meeting that fits into your calendars within the coming weeks. Sorry for the inconvenience."

As the other board members filed out of the room, Catherine watched her father in law's expression closely. The man remained almost completely still, leaning back in his chair and spinning his pen between his fingers. Her eyes narrowed at his lack of reaction or concern over what he knew must be going on.

"She's delivered then?" Harper asked finally, once the room was empty. "A living infant?"

Tilting her head to one side, Catherine crossed her arms, "_April_ did, yes. A living baby. He's got severe breathing difficulties."

Harper had been as unhappy to hear about Jackson and April's abrupt marriage as anyone (with the possibly the one exception being April's abandoned fiance), and he had not softened much on the subject in the ensuing months. Unlike Catherine, who'd known April Kepner for years, Harper was not familiar with her or the friendship between her and Jackson that formed the foundation of their whole relationship before they fell in love. Instead, he continued to view the whole thing as another embarrassing scandal for the Avery family and a poor decision on the part if his grandson. As such, he seemed to have very little interest in getting to know his granddaughter in law at all. Especially when Harper found out about April's humble background and chosen surgical specialty.

Catherine had only heard the man say the poor girl's name twice and she'd just about had it with him. She too had come from humble beginnings and she'd done just fine in Harper's world. Better in fact than his own son, a _real_ Avery.

Harper overlooked the emphasis she'd placed on April's name and nodded, "You think it's really necessary that the both of us fly out to Seattle?"

"For your great grandson? For someone who might well grow up and replace you in the very chair you sit? Honey, of course that's a yes!"

The old man didn't react to her outburst and continued to handle his pen carefully. "The child is very ill?"

Catherine sighed, "The doctors are still working to learn about his exact diagnosis. He is in the neonatal intensive care unit in critical condition."

"Then it's not very likely that he will make it here, is it?" Harper used his pen to waive around the boardroom offhandedly.

Catherine scowled. Much as she hated to admit it, Harper had a point. Her grandson's health was very precarious. He could very easily pass away at any moment, and even if he didn't, it was unclear as to whether the uncertainty of his situation would fade in time. He could be just as fragile years from now. She had no idea what his future looked like. But the Avery legacy would likely not be his.

"Perhaps it's best not to get too attached."

While she understood the man's sobering point, hearing her father in law speak in this way made Catherine's temper flare. "Harper!"

She knew that Harper was not the most sentimental man and she knew that he didn't end up that way easily. Julian Avery was the only one of Harper's children to survive into adulthood, but he was not the only child of Elizabeth and Harper Avery to be born. Before Julian, there had been a daughter, Annalise. But she'd died of polio when Julian was an infant and no matter how much of a member of the Avery family she'd become, neither Elizabeth nor Harper had never opened up about the loss with Catherine.

All there was left was a few faded pictures of a beautiful toddler and a rag doll Harper kept in his desk at home.

"Have they named him yet?"

"Yes," Catherine nodded, glad to hear what sounded like more genuine curiosity in the old man's voice. "Conner Joseph Avery."

"Joseph," Harper mused quietly, looking vaguely wistful. "After the other grandfather, yes? The farmer. Better Joseph than Julian, I suppose."

"Harper," she prodded gently, as her impatience grew. "We need to hire a plane and _go. _Jackson and April need us. Little Mr. Conner needs us. We have to go to Seattle. There...there might not be much time."

"Since the situation is that serious," the old man seemed to close down and turned his chair around, facing away from Catherine. "I can imagine you may wish to stay in Seattle a while, in which case, I think it's best that I stay here. The budget meeting is too important to be postponed for long, and then there is the bio-pharmecuical meeting already on the books for next week..."

In a sense, Harper had lost both of his children. The Harper Avery Foundation was the only 'baby' he still had.

"Harper..."

He rested his chin on his hands and became pensive, "You're going to be mad at me aren't you?"

"Frankly," Catherine shook her head in disbelief. "I'm about to be royally pissed at you."

"I'll survive," the old man said smiling sadly. "I always do."

Catherine sighed in disappointment. She'd known the man for years, and it was rare that Harper disappointed her. But this was a mistake. He would likely miss his first great grandchild's entire life. He was choosing the Foundation over his family. And that made her mad.

Whatever loss the man had experienced in the past, holding in his pain had done Harper no favors. Harper liked to act as though he was so much better than Julian could ever measure up to. He was smart, ambitious, charismatic, and responsible. Except for the times when he weren't. Catherine had known the old man long enough to learn that Harper could be just as foolish as Julian. And as much as she wanted Harper to join her in Seattle, Catherine knew it was hard to make Avery men things they were not ready for. She couldn't _make_ him go, even if it was the right thing to do. He was the one who needed to figure that out.

But in this moment, Harper was abandoning Jackson as much as Julian had. And Catherine would never forget that.

Her feelings of frustration and anger over the situation and Harper's response had not faded at all by the time Catherine arrived in Seattle later that anything, it had heightened. Arriving in the lobby of Grey Sloan Memorial, she rolled her eyes as she cast around for _someone_ to help direct her to her family. But of course the way the place was run it might take hours for them to even notice her presence.

She'd just reached the main lobby when a familiar voice reached her ears, "Oh! Dr. Avery! You're here."

Catherine blinked in surprise as Owen Hunt appeared by her side, along with a short rather dowdy looking woman who kept dabbing tears from her eyes.

"You're just in time," the Chief of Surgery explained hurriedly as he reached a hand to her back and guided both women toward the nearest elevator. "I was just about to take Mrs. Kepner up to see Avery and April as well..."

The man seemed not to realize that this was actually the first time she'd ever encountered Karen Kepner. Catherine's eyes grew wide as she made brief eye contact with her grandson's _other_ grandmother. She had no idea what the other woman might think about Catherine or Jackson. She had a vague sense that April's family had initially been suspicious of her marriage, but Catherine supposed that was all beside the point now. She knew that it would be good for her daughter in law to have the other woman around for this. As much as Catherine knew that Jackson needed her, April needed her own mother.

Sometimes you just needed your Mama.

Thinking of her new grandson, brand new to the world Conner, all boxed in in some plastic incubator in the NICU, away from his mother, father, and family, Catherine shook her head. Life sustaining as the technology may be, it wasn't the first experience she'd have picked for a grandchild of hers to ever need. Catherine could only hope that the world of the incubator would not be the boy's _only_ life experience.

Karen had a pleasantly familiar round face, with a prominent chin, and her cropped brown hair was laced with gray strands. She looked about as weary and apprehensive as Catherine felt. Sensing scrutiny, the smaller woman stood up a little straighter, looking away to face Owen.

"Is there any news, Dr. Hunt?" Karen asked anxiously as the elevator moved upwards.

The ginger man looked a little pained and tilted his head to one side, "Well, Dr. Robbins has put your grandson on supplemental oxygen, which has really helped. She's running a series diagnostic tests right now so we hope to understand more about his condition, and get him stable enough to have visitors...soon."

The elevator dinged as it reached it's destination, silver doors opening up to reveal an almost relentlessly cheerful maternity ward. Catherine's eyes had narrowed as Owen described the medical treatment Conner was receiving. She couldn't quite trust the place. She followed closely as Hunt led them out of the elevator and down the hall. It felt as though they'd sequestered Jackson and April off, far away from the happier rooms on the maternity floor.

Catherine became more irritated as every room they passed seemed to be filled with happy couples and healthy babies. This _damned_ place.

"April is still pretty shook up; she won't sleep. Avery's been trying to get her to calm down, but..." Hunt continued glancing back at Catherine as they moved toward her daughter in law's room. "As you can imagine, it's a little difficult. He's pretty shaken up too, Dr. Avery."

The pained expression on Owen's face gave Catherine a moment of pause. It seemed like he was really invested in all of this. Catherine and Karen exchanged quick glances as they neared their children's room.

Karen reached out and squeezed her hand, "Is this your first grandchild?"

Surprised, for a moment all Catherine could do was stare, fumbling for an answer (and she absolutely _hated_ to fumble). It seemed like Karen was trying to offer comfort. Catherine wasn't usually the kind of person who needed comforting.

"Yes," she swallowed, watching as Owen approached a closed door. "This little man is my first. And this is your...?"

The shorter woman smiled wistfully, "He's my 8th."

Catherine's eyes grew wide, "Ah. How-how nice."

"Usually, it's a lot more fun than this..." Karen sighed as a tear fell from the corner of her eye. "I just pray to God he'll pull through..."

The open door revealed a sight that brought tears to Catherine's own eyes and swept away most of the anger and frustrated she'd held onto moments before. Inside the room she saw her son and daughter in law. Jackson sat perched on April's bed, with his arms wrapped around April's shoulders as she sobbed into her hands rocking back and forth. Catherine could tell she was pale and drawn and her heart went out to April as much as her son. Jackson looked like he was at his wit's end.

"It might be better if you let them give you a sedative," he reasoned wearily.

She didn't halt her motions and shook her head emphatically, "No! I can't."

"April, you've been awake for 33 hours," Jackson pleaded. "_I've_ been awake for 33 hours. You just gave birth. You need to rest. There's nothing we can really do right now for Conner but wait..."

"I'm afraid if I close my eyes he'll die!" April's eyes were wide and panicked. "My baby will die and he'd never know I loved him. He'd never know anything but feeling like he can't breathe. He'll just...be _gone_ and I'll never see him again-"

The girl went drifted off into an incomprehensible ramble that brought tears to Karen's eyes. Hunt cleared his throat, making Jackson at least aware of their presence. He looked up at Catherine as soon as Hunt led them into the room, appearing more frightened than she'd seen him since he was a little boy.

"Oh, baby," Catherine held open her arms for Jackson when he rose and walked over to her. He held her tight and didn't let go.

April didn't react much to their arrival, and Karen approached her daughter's bed carefully. She climbed into the bed, and that seemed to be enough to pull April out of her rambles. She cuddled into her mother's embrace and the two of them seemed to break into some sort of prayer. Catherine shook her head and held Jackson close.

And so they all cried for a while. Catherine wasn't too proud to admit it. Even Hunt, still hovering in the doorway, sniffled and wiped the corner of his eyes.

"Mom..." Jackson said thickly, blinking back tears. "I don't know if I can do this. I can't-I'm not cut out to be a father and he's so sick and April is...and I can't take care of everything-"

Her boy was not a crier. He never had been, even when he was young and even when he most definitely had good reason to. When Jackson fell off of his bike learning to ride, and scraped his knees? He set his jaw and tried again. When he took a foul in basketball game? He didn't let his emotions overtake his concentration and scored the next winning basket. When he lost his best friend in a shooting? Jackson worked to get approved for surgery and went back to work.

Catherine knew her son. It wasn't very often that he was vulnerable to his mother.

She reached out and held Jackson's face in both her hands, shushing him and offering words she hoped he could draw strength from, "You are Jackson Avery. You are good man. You are a better man than your father _and_ your grandfather, you will be a better father and you can do this. You are already doing this brilliantly, and your Mama is proud of you. And here for you. You and April are not alone."

She glanced over to the bed, making eye contact with Karen and lifting her hand in a rallying gesture, "Right?"

Holding April closer, and pressing a kiss to her daughter's head, the other woman nodded, "Right. We're here for you both. And God is always with all of us. He's with Conner right now. And whatever path you three have to go down, He'll hold you in the palm of His hand."

Catherine blinked. That wasn't exactly the line of reassurance she'd been going for.

"Um...well, that's certainly one way to think about it," she demurred carefully, not having much desire to create a stir.

Her pep talk must have worked a bit because Jackson sniffed, and for a brief moment looked at his mother in amusement.

She supposed she now understood some of what it must be like for him to live with someone who was very religious. As a girl growing up in Texas, Catherine was not unfamiliar with the 'church going' masses. Growing up, she'd sat through her own share of severe sermons (and she'd been damned pleased as an adult not to continue going). Her own parents had been devout Baptists. Her sister Caroline _still_ was. It was just one of of the many reasons why the Fox sisters didn't get along.

Catherine became a woman of science. She felt as though her accomplishments, and the accomplishments of humanity did not have to be guided by a greater being. People changed the world. Intelligence and tenacity drove progress. Science and medicine saved lives. People had the power, not some unseen deity. She'd always found that religion confined people (Caroline being the prime example) and science could set you free (her own life had demonstrated that). The only thing about April's marriage to her son that made Catherine worry was the girl's beliefs.

Perhaps Jackson was just better at compromising.

April finally spoke coherently, wiping her nose with one hand, "We should...we should get the hospital chaplain. He should see Conner. Christen him...just in case-just in case he..."

Chief Hunt seemed willing to do anything for April, and disappeared down the hallway looking for the chaplain almost as soon as the request was uttered, while Jackson and Catherine exchanged dubious glances. Karen and April clearly thought it was a good idea.

_Necessary_ even.

Catherine wasn't so sure. And judging by the indecision in her son's eyes, she suspected Jackson wasn't so certain either. For her own part, Catherine didn't really want any grandchild of hers officially initiated into any faith tradition, until they were good and old enough to make their own decision. She wasn't comfortable with the idea of her grandchild having no say in the matter. Then again, she'd never really considered having a grandchild who might not live long enough to grow up and choose for themselves.

Little Conner might not have the luxury.

Jackson seemed to be thinking along those lines too because he watched his wife closely, "Would having Conner blessed make you feel better?"

"I'm sorry," April mumbled looking away from both Avery's. "I know...I know you don't want that..."

"April, look at me," Jackson made his way over to the side of April's bed and took hold of her hand "Would it help you rest?"

It was clear to Catherine that some sort of unspoken communication passed between her son and his wife just then. She wasn't privy to it's meaning, but she'd been young and in love once too. She knew what it looked like. April's gaze darted back to her husband, and Jackson's eyes softened and it was like they'd said a thousand things without uttering a single word.

Damn it. Catherine knew in that moment that a baptism was a done deal. But she held her tongue.

April rested her head on her mother's shoulder, closing her red rimmed eyes and nodding slowly. Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose and glanced at his mother apprehensively. She could tell that he didn't exactly feel comfortable with the idea, but at the same time he seemed desperate to find some sort of peace in his family. For his wife. For himself. For his child.

Jackson sighed, and squeezed his wife's hand, "Okay...then, that's what we'll do."

Catherine sighed, and joined her family by perching on the edge of her daughter in law's hospital bed. She couldn't really blame her son, no matter how much she disagreed with the choice. At least Jackson, unlike his father and his grandfather, was here to make a choice related to his son's future and well being.

However, Catherine couldn't hep but remember what her father always said about compromise. It was a good umbrella, but a poor roof. It wasn't a lasting fix. She realized that in a time like this, there might not really be a need for a long term solution. After all, there was no guarantee that Conner Avery would live long enough for a christening to make any difference at all in the grand scheme of things.

But Catherine also vowed that it would not make a difference either way. If Conner lived, she was bound and determined that he should be a man of science. Like his father. And grandmother. And great grandfather. As much as _any_ Avery. Catherine loved April, but she couldn't allow the woman to be the reason that her family took a step back into the imprecise world of superstition and faith. The medical world was moving faster than that, and the Harper Avery Foundation was at the apex of that progress. Both the foundation and family fabric were already frayed enough. Adding religion in was too much of a risk.

And if little Conner did survive, Catherine knew it would have nothing to do with God. And _nothing_ to do with Richard's damn hospital.

Conner was an Avery. And Averys were strong. Hopefully that would be enough.

* * *

A tiny pair of hands tugged at the corners of Catherine's tablet.

"Gramma! You work too much time!" her 5 year old grandson said, happily. "Whatcha doing?"

She turned to face the boy, beaming as she met his earnest gaze. Conner's round face was all cheeks and grins, as he stood wrapped in a towel, still damp from his nightly therapy swim with his father. Jackson followed closely behind, also clad in swim trunks and a towel.

"I am looking at candidates for this year's foundation awards, honey," Catherine explained calmly. "Want to see?"

Jackson huffed and brushed past her, "You're supposed to be on vacation."

"I wanna see!" Conner exclaimed happily trying to see Catherine's work and nearly tripping over his wet feet on the hard wood floor of the apartment.

Catherine laughed as he caught himself. Jackson grinned too. Her grandson brought her such joy. It was hard to imagine how many tears accompanied this delightful young man's birth. It was hard to understand just how much fear and uncertainty surrounded him at the time. Now, Conner was a bundle of energy and adventure and _life_, that is seemed almost impossible to reconcile with the memory that his early infancy was full of grief and worry and the fear of _death_.

The first time Catherine had met Conner, three full days after his birth, he'd been in the neonatal intensive care unit. A giant among the NICU preemies. He'd been awake and struggling, pulling at his oxygen tubes, each rise and fall of his chest, a clear battle for air. At the same time, Catherine had also sensed determination in the little man. Because when she'd gazed at his incubator, Conner had looked right back at her. His color had been a little off due to diminished oxygen, but Conner was strong.

His problems had stemmed from an oddly shaped rib cage, an underdeveloped diaphragm and malformed intercostal muscles. Conner's chest cavity didn't have enough space for his lungs to expand easily and the muscles that controlled his breathing didn't have the strength to keep the breathing cycle going without assistance those early days. Fortunately immediate intervention and the use of supplemental oxygen had prevented any deprivation related brain damage. A series of surgeries repaired some of the problem and constant attention to strengthening his breathing had allowed the boy to recover and thrive.

Th specialists said that the best thing Conner could do would be to build strength and endurance for his lungs. While full contact sports would never be a part of Conner's life, activity and sports in general would be necessary for his continued health. And Catherine had watched in pride as his his parents took that advice to heart. Jackson learned aquatic breathing techniques and faithfully swam in the apartment's indoor pool with his son on a regular basis (with an inhaler nearby, of course) to help the boy better learn to handle his breathing. April took Conner to gymnastics every single week and carved time out of every work day to take the boy out of daycare and on long walks through the hospital hallways to help him build stamina.

Catherine thought that Jackson and April were better parents than they realized. For the most part, they were good people raising their baby right. Not that she didn't see areas with room for improvement of course, but they'd had to deal with some difficult things in the beginning. Honestly even for Catherine, the time had past in a busy whirlwind and shifted the entire family's focus to maintaining Conner's well being. Five years later the only physical evidence that remained of Conner's traumatic start to life was a slightly barreled chest, the occasional need for an inhaler, and a few scars.

Conner's accomplishments and resilience never failed to amaze. April called it a miracle. Catherine didn't believe in miracles.

"Careful buddy," Jackson chided. "Why don't we go get changed into some dry pajama's and then you can sit with Gramma?"

Catherine gently patted her grandson's shoulder, "Go get dry. I'll show you this later."

Conner bounded off down the hall toward his bedroom, "I'll be back!"

"Do you want help?" Jackson offered, watching his son in amusement.

"No! I can do it by myself."

"Okay..." Using his towel, Jackson gestured toward the master bedroom and asked, "Is April?"

Smiling, Catherine pointed to the video baby monitor that sat next to her chair, "Both the ladies of the house are still fast asleep."

On the screen the monitor provided a horizontal bird's eye view of the bedside bassinet that now resided in her son and daughter in law's bedroom. Her 4 day old granddaughter, and partial namesake, Riley Catherine, was clearly visible as she slumbered peacefully. Catherine chuckled. While she wasn't exactly sold on the first name, she was honored to be included for the middle name. And her infant granddaughter truly was one of the most beautiful babies Catherine had ever seen, even with all bias aside. Riley was the spitting image of her father at the same age, and spending these past days helping her son and daughter settle in had brought back plenty of memories. She was as loud and alert as Jackson had been as a baby.

Just beyond the small bassinet, April's sleeping form was just visible on the screen in the nearby bed. Mother and daughter both snored softly.

Following Catherine's gaze to the screen, Jackson shook his head in disbelief, "It's kind of weird. Having her around so soon. We didn't get to take Conner home for months..."

"Well, Riley is not sick," she replied. "This how things normally go..."

In fact, as reluctant as Jackson and April had appeared to be about having a second child, this pregnancy and birth had gone off without a single hitch. No fear filled prenatal screenings, no painful birth separations, and best of all (in Catherine's opinion, anyway) no emergency christenings. That didn't make Jackson and April relax at all, however. At every single stage Catherine had watched her son and daughter in law being hyper vigilant, always fearful of the other shoe dropping.

She'd very nearly grown accustomed to the idea of Conner being her only grandchild, given Jackson and April's experience. His birth experience had scarred the both of them, and it made sense that they might not want to risk enduring that again. When they told her they were pregnant with another baby, even though they never told her as much, Catherine had seen the fear in Jackson and April's eyes. Her son had never seemed so silent and stoic, and her daughter in law was once again wound up tighter than a drum. All through the pregnancy the couple's nerves were palpable. She didn't know Jackson's and April's reasoning in choosing to have a second child (for all Catherine knew there was none), but the choice was clearly a brave one.

And then again, _some_ things about Riley's birth were no different from her brother's. Once again, Harper had opted not to join Catherine in a visit to Seattle.

Old fool.

Catherine's eyes narrowed as she watched her son hold back a yawn. "Honey, you can go to sleep if you like. I believe the whole idea is to sleep when they sleep..."

Jackson shrugged sheepishly, "I probably should."

"I'll put Mr. Conner to bed."

"I know you will."

Raising one eyebrow, Catherine turned back to her work, "Of course, this whole thing would be ten times easier if you and April would just hire a nanny...I'll even foot the bill."

"We don't want a nanny," Jackson scowled.

Sometimes getting children to see reason was difficult. At any age.

She tilted her head to one side and ignored her son's response, "I understand you two feeling like you needed to take special care of Conner given his condition, but caring for two children and managing two challenging careers is something else entirely. And you can't just put them in that baby warehouse of a hospital daycare at Grey Sloan."

The years had not worn down Catherine's anger and distrust of Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital. April and Jackson only seemed keen to participate in the broader Harper Avery Foundation when it allowed them to protect Richard Webber and the defiant hospital board. Which meant that while Catherine had been able to muster up enough votes to limit certain programming budgets for the place, thus far she'd been blocked from defunding the place.

It was a topic the the family rarely discussed. And they all seemed to know that someday things would all come to a head.

Now that Catherine had not one, but both of her precious grandchildren likely to end up spending significant amounts of their formative years in the Grey Sloan Memorial daycare, she felt she had the right to be concerned. Anything could happen in that place. For all they knew the next big 'event' at Grey Sloan Memorial would involve locusts descending on the childcare area!

Richard Webber had once accused Catherine of being too work and foundation minded. At the time she'd been put off by his accusation. Five years later, she preferred to think that for her at least, (and for Richard too, though he was too much of a hypocrite to admit it) professional and personal were inescapably intertwined.

And she knew what Richard would say in this situation. That it wasn't Catherine's place to even comment. That she was holding a grudge. That her priorities were skewed. But he was wrong. What was good for the Harper Avery Foundation was almost certainly good for the Avery family as well.

"We don't want a nanny," Jackson repeated, a slight edge clearly audible in his voice.

"You mean _April_ doesn't want a nanny."

Catherine had already butted heads with her daughter in law over a number of things when it came to the children, outside of her objections to Conner's exposure to religion. And all over actions that Catherine had taken in Jackson's own childhood. Aspects of being an Avery that Jackson had to be comfortable with. April and Catherine disagreed on everything from trust funds to publicity. There would be no official press release from the foundation announcing the birth of a new baby. No pictures or official acknowledgement that the family upon which the Harper Avery Foundation was founded had grown. She'd understood making that decision with Conner, but Riley was healthy. It was important that the Foundation maintain the publicity surrounding the family. She felt certain her son understood this. But it was clear that April did not.

As with the wedding, Riley's birth was another missed opportunity for the Foundation's public face.

Jackson repeated his word's one more time, very firmly. "_We_ don't want a nanny." _  
_

She tilted her head to one side and looked away. "If you say so, baby."

"Mom," her son sighed, clearly exhausted. "I am glad you are here, and I am tired and I really don't want to fight right now."

"Look at me!" Conner shouted, dashing back into the living room triumphantly, showing off his successful pajama dressing with the impeccable timing that only small children seem to have.

His voice was loud enough that both Riley and April shifted in their sleep on the baby monitor.

"Shh...remember we gotta use inside voices," Jackson hushed, moving down the hall as Catherine beckoned for her grandson to take a seat in her lap. "We don't want to wake up Mama and your sister."

Conner climbed into his grandmother's lap and made a face, "Sorry."

Jackson yawned and called out a final set of instructions before disappearing from view down the hall, "He needs to be in bed by 8. Don't forget to use his nebulizer..."

"We'll be just fine, huh baby?" Catherine murmured, patting Conner on the bottom as the boy snuggled into her embrace.

The boy sniffed and nodded, gazing intently at the baby monitor as he watched his father appear on the far edge of the screen and leaned down to kiss Riley's forehead before sliding into bed next to April.

"What do you think of your little sister?"

"She's okay, I guess. She sleep a lot..." Conner shrugged.

Catherine had to chuckle at the disappointment she heard in her grandson's voice. "Give it a little time. You might start to like her."

He wrinkled his nose, "We went to church and I asked God for a brother, but He sent _her_ instead."

That statement gave Catherine pause. She knew that her son and daughter in law attended a local church every Sunday with her grandson. The tenuous compromised reached between Jackson and April seemed to Catherine to be more like a complete and total surrender on her son's part. Jackson seemed willing to let many things go. Conner seemed to be a baptized, church attending, talks about God like He's Santa kind of boy, and that didn't feel like a compromise to Catherine. When it came to the question of God or no God, she had trouble seeing how compromise was possible at all. Whenever she visited or the family came to Boston the situation bothered her. However, she'd learned to hold her tongue when it came to the subject of April's religion.

Catherine could tell that her daughter in law had some desire to share or even explain her strong faith with her. And she didn't really know why, but the idea made her uncomfortable. It came a little to close to home. It reminded her a little too much of her last conversation with her sister Caroline. So whenever April tried to bring it up, Catherine changed the subject.

"Well," she replied carefully. "Your sister was always a girl. Her DNA make up from the moment she began was a blueprint for a girl."

Conner tilted his head to look up into her eyes, "Huh?"

Catherine took hold of one of his hands and idly counted his small fingers, "Yes. DNA is what makes you you, and every single person who they are. It tells what your hair color will be, and whether or not you like pancakes or eggs, and whether not you are a boy or a girl."

"Okay..." her grandson nodded, looking down.

Nudging Conner comfortingly, Catherine continued, "Hey. Don't worry. Having a sister can be fun."

Most of the time.

"I guess so."

"What do you say you help me take a look at the Harper Avery nominations?"

Conner's mood brightened, "Okay! What's a mon-im-ashins?"

She threw her head back in laughter. Religion or not, at least the little man was interested in the Harper Avery Foundation. It was more than could be said about his father a lot of the time.

Catherine always preferred to stand up for what she believed in, but there were sometimes, when you simply had to strike a deal. For the sake of calm. All she could do with Conner was try to explain things from the scientific perspective whenever possible. She could show him that the truth of science and hope that it was enough to influence his beliefs at least as much as his mother's religiosity.

It was the bargain Catherine had to make.


End file.
